


Hypersynchrony

by Mosmorde



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2547338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosmorde/pseuds/Mosmorde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Obi-Wan finds himself addicted to 'Hypersynchrony', to Anakin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A moment. 

That was all it took for calm to shatter into complete chaos, for a thousand breaths to turn into a thousand deaths. Communications were down, they were in a valley, ambushed on all sides. There was no strategy now, only survival.  

Anakin scrambled to his knees and surveyed the landscape grimly. The clones were doing their best but the odds were against them, outnumbered a hundred to one. Scattered shouts from commanders could be heard over explosions and blaster fires, desperately trying to rally some semblance of a rank. Anakin stayed still for a moment, shell-shocked by an explosion that threw him to the ground, his hearing still filled with a high-pitched keening. A clone lay dead next to him. It’s white armour pristine as ever. There was no blood to be seen but Anakin could smell it. The scent was too intimate to him by now. Somehow the clones never seem to bleed out of their armour but Anakin knew better. He knew exactly how much blood the nanocrystals in the black bodyglove could hold. An image of an unconscious Obi-Wan flashed in his mind.  _Peeling off the bodyglove. Heavy. Soaked. Sticking to skin_. Anakin blinked, shaking the memory off. Igniting his lightsaber, Anakin sprang into action, making for the frontlines, roaring. The clones nearby saw him and followed their general. This was it then, retreat was futile. Fight or fall. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi rammed his lightsaber into the droid piloting the repulsortank and back-flipped, landing on his feet. The Force shimmered at the corner of his eye and he turned to see Anakin at full-sprint, laying waste to the Separatist droid army. Anakin was practically incandescent in the Force. He had paved a headlong path on the battlefield and Obi-Wan knew that his place is non-other than by Anakin’s side. Fending off more blaster fire, Obi-Wan lifted his lightsaber high in the air and waved, before yelling “ _Charge!_ ” The 212th Attack Battalion zeroed in on their general and followed. Snow started to fall, lightly casting the violent scenery with a soft counterpoise. 

Sensing Obi-Wan near, Anakin glanced over his shoulder. Obi-Wan swept his lightsaber in a graceful arc, deflecting a series of red blaster fire. Their eyes met through the snowfall. Blue on blue. It was but a moment in reality but in the Force, it stretched into eternity. Anakin whirled around and swung his lightsaber down to cut through a rank of droids approaching his back. Anakin centered himself, drawing on the Force from within. Every single midichlorian in his body seemed to sing. About five metres to his side, Obi-Wan inhaled sharply. Invisible tendrils reached from Anakin into Obi-Wan’s mind through their force bond. His pupils dilated and his vision brightened, almost blinding for a moment. His eyes watered as he continued to push forward, in step with Anakin. Obi-Wan felt the Force whisper down his neck, down his back and arms, to his fingertips. The tendrils reached into every fibre and sinew, each cell hewn with both their Force signatures. It coursed through his veins, white and hot. It felt like being set alight from the inside. Obi-Wan’s heartbeat exploded in his ears, drowning out the noise of battle. Suddenly Obi-Wan tasted blood and realized he had bitten his lip. He had not realized he had been holding his breath. He inhaled deeply. Gradually, Obi-Wan could hear Anakin’s heartbeat; a steady counter-rhythm to his own. Obi-Wan steadied his breath, his racing heartbeat slowed to match Anakin’s. Obi-Wan still found it unnerving that Anakin was always calmest when in the heat of battle. One word comes to mind,  _predator_.

Obi-Wan tightened his grip on his lightsaber. He could sense every single threat approaching him, knew exactly how and when to swing his lightsaber to deflect and destroy. Such  _raw_ power. Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s razor focus as he cut through the frontlines and he knew Anakin could feel him too. Anakin leapt forward, extending both his arms, Force-pushing the wall of droids, showering them in sharp metal. Obi-Wan shielded his eyes and realized, looking at Anakin’s clenched fists that Anakin had  _crushed_ the droids rather. Obi-Wan thrilled at Anakin’s display. He could not quash the sense of pride that sung through their bond. In response, a grin tugged at Anakin’s lips. More droids closed in on them.  _Endless_ , thought Obi-Wan and he surged into a somersault, swinging his lightsaber, a flurry of electric blue. 

Anakin and Obi-Wan moved together seamlessly. The air practically vibrated in a tight radius around the two Jedi. The falling snow never touched the ground where they stood. The smell of ozone co-mingled with the tinge of blood from the countless fallen clones. Blue lightsabers flashing in a sea of red blaster fire. The double-image of heroic justice. Skywalker and Kenobi,  _The Team_. Both felt indefatigable,  _invincible_. Obi-Wan had grown accustomed to these moments, which had become frequent since the advent of The Clone Wars. He even had a name for it now,  _Hypersynchrony_. Obi-Wan swallowed and he knew, he was  _addicted_  to it.

 

               Anakin was in his element. This was what he was born to do, to be both _violent_ and _efficient_. His mind was never more at peace. The single-minded goal of drawing from within, to without, every iota of power he possessed; to _destroy_. To Anakin Skywalker, this was meditation. To add to his dark tranquility, he had Obi-Wan by his side. To have someone so primary to him experience all _this_ with him was a nameless joy. Anakin watched Obi-Wan from the corners of his eyes. Obi-Wan was so close, so _alive._ Anakin’s modus operandi was to move forward, Obi-Wan’s to cover his openings. Obi-Wan moved fast and fluid around Anakin, as if performing an intricate dance, drawing an invisible circle of safety. Anakin relished in Obi-Wan’s confidence. He could see it in the line of Obi-Wan’s shoulders; _poised_ , _perfect form_. Obi-Wan’s practiced attacks imbued with more power and grace. _My doing_ , thought Anakin.

Anakin’s words rang clear through their bond. Obi-Wan’s focus snagged and he assented with a tight ‘ _Yes’._ The admission was more ripped from his mind than a voluntary reply. Obi-Wan knew he was walking a fine line with Anakin but at the moment the burning sensation in his muscles and fingers demanded more attention. Obi-Wan’s lightsaber hissed dangerously close to Anakin’s cheek, deflecting a stray blaster fire. Anakin glimpsed Obi-Wan’s face, a familiar portrait of definite calm. Anakin’s bravado grew by the second, and his use of the Force to crush the droids seemed to expand with it.

               The clones had caught up, moving as a unit behind the two Jedi. Against all odds, they were winning. With the clones covering their back, Obi-Wan now moved in tandem with Anakin, crisscrossing each other’s path in a straight line. The last of the droids reduced to scrap metal, the sounds of blasters subsided. The mouth of the valley sloped uphill to a knoll. Anakin arrived first and slowed to a stop. He lowered his lightsaber and deactivated it. Obi-Wan followed suit. Both Jedi turned to survey the wreckage they had left in their wake. White snow covered the entire valley, partially obscuring the fallen clones and droids. Black smoke rose from the carpet of white, aftermath from the initial explosions when the ambush started. The surviving clones trudged down the valley, checking their dead or wounded comrades, salvaging useable weaponry, making plans to erect a base camp. Tireless as they were, perfect soldiers as they were, they were _not_ devoid of feeling. The Jedi Generals could almost _taste_ the clones’s grief, rising black and heavy into the twilit sky. The Force was heady with their silent despair.

Blood still rushing in his ears, Obi-Wan’s shallow breaths drew puffs in the air and he started to feel the chill. Anakin was barely winded, rather he looked invigorated, his eyes blank. Obi-Wan felt the tendrils of Anakin’s Force signature pulling away, its tendrils lazily withdrawing from his limbs, the energy ebbing, leaving his fingertips numb. Once more, Obi-Wan sensed Anakin’s Force signature as distinct from his own, separate and individual. Obi-Wan dreaded this; the _Fade._ It always left him physically sore and mentally, it felt like a hole was gouged somewhere deep. An emptiness that ached more each time. _Attachment_ , his mind hissed and Obi-Wan grimaced. He knew perfectly well how dangerous the whole affair was. Anakin on the other hand wasted no time on self-flagellation. To him, what they did was necessary for survival. _Natural_ even. They were, after all _The Team_.

Obi-Wan struggled with himself, Anakin had created a polarity in him. He was all at once drawn to and repulsed by Anakin. Obi-Wan pulled his mental shields up. _I deserve this_ , he thought. Anakin tested his communicator, “Still down. We’d better regroup with Cody.” Anakin said, turning to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan nodded and briskly walked on. He could not face Anakin. Not just yet.


	2. Chapter 2

Anakin lingered at the top of the hill. It was snowing heavily now and visibility was getting worse by the second. He felt like he was coming out of a trance, his calm slipping away with nightfall. He could not remember when he last felt at ease when night came. He watched Obi-Wan trudging through the snow, his figure fading into the snowfall and shadows. Like a phantom that suddenly ceased to exist. Anakin instinctively reached out his hand, almost calling out. _Don’t leave_ me, he thought. Letting his hand fall, Anakin probed at their bond, only to be met with Obi-Wan’s shielding. Silence. He shivered, it was cold now.

Anakin ignited his lightsaber and walked by its blue light, carefully stepping over broken metal and fallen clones. Anakin’s mood grew darker with each dead clone he came across. _I failed them,_ his mind accused _._ Images of frozen corpses filled his mind, followed by a raging desire to set the entire valley ablaze. As if incinerating the remains could redeem the loss. _Blood with fire_ , thought Anakin. He associated annihilation with rebirth; that _destruction_ would bring about _restoration_. What is broken beyond repair could be given new life, a never-ending… ‘ _Hope’._ The precious word echoed in Anakin’s mind, singular and distant. Anakin then thought he glimpsed Obi-Wan’s back in the dark. He blinked and Obi-Wan was no more. Anakin rubbed the snowflakes caught on his eyelashes. _This is worse than sand_ , he thought.

Anakin walked slowly, his clothes damp, melting snow seeping to his skin. He stopped at the sight of a clone trooper lying face down, helmet off. Anakin stooped, grabbed the body by its shoulder with his left hand, and turned it to face up. Anakin brought his lightsaber close and stared into the lifeless brown eyes, then closed them. He placed his gloved hand on the side of the clone’s head, cradling the face. The trooper looked peaceful to him. _Is death restful?_ Anakin’s mind questioned. He dismissed the thought before any answers formed. “At ease, soldier.” he whispered, voice hoarse from the cold. Anakin quickly stood up and spared no more glances at the dead bodies littering his path.

The winds picked up, snowfall swirled in the air. Obi-Wan shielded his eyes with his left arm, lightsaber swinging somewhat wildly in his effort to put as much distance between him and Anakin. Never mind the blasted dark and snow. He just needed to acclimatize to the gnawing numbness taking over his body. _Like poison in my bloodstream. To which the_ only _antidote is…_ Obi-Wan swallowed and silently cursed himself.

The snow was knee deep by then, obscuring jagged metal and corpses beneath. Obi-Wan’s foot caught on something and he almost fell. He plunged his lightsaber into the snow in front of him, melting it to reveal the corpse of a trooper with severed legs and a missing arm. It struck Obi-Wan with disproportionate remorse, stealing his breath. A feeling of _jamais vu_ pervaded him. Whatever it was, it undid his mental shields. _Anakin!_ His call rang through their bond. There was a fluttering about Obi-Wan’s ears, followed by an immediate, answering, _Master?_ Obi-Wan’s reaction to the relief flooding his senses was to slam his shields up again. Taken aback by his own desperation, Obi-Wan gritted his teeth. _Get a grip, Kenobi_. Anakin must not find out. Anakin must _never_ know. _You need him,_ betrayed his thoughts simply. Obi-Wan Kenobi felt his world go black. It was a truth that he was never equipped to deal with. It was too strong a word, too irredeemable a word. Needs are of the _self._ A Jedi does not _need_.

Obi-Wan focused instead on the mutilated corpse, snow was slowly covering it. His abrupt grief at its sight disappeared as soon as it came. Now he felt nothing but the numbness of the Fade. He stepped around the body and used the Force to bury it again. Obi-Wan straightened, bowed his head and waited for words to come. None came. As if to fill the silence, the winds howled. Obi-Wan turned to look ahead, to a path he assumed lead to the bottom of the valley. He squinted and saw a flashing light in the distance, a homing signal. _The clones must have regrouped_. Obi-Wan ignored the rippling along his mental shields and trudged on, his festering thoughts burning like acid.

“Kriff’s sake.” Anakin growled, clenching his free hand. He was worried at first but _now_ he was angry. Anakin slid his Force signature along Obi-Wan’s durasteel shields. It was cool, subdued, _hiding_ things from him. _Like his eyes,_ he thought automatically. Anakin knew if he tried hard enough he could get _through_ to Obi-Wan but the idea seemed too violent. With one last surge at Obi-Wan’s shield, Anakin withdrew his Force signature. Their bond fell silent. If one were to peer at Anakin Skywalker’s face right then, for the briefest of moments, he looked rather like a lost child.

Anakin held his hand up and blew a path through the snow. This time he was careful not to look too closely at what he was stepping over. The valley was a graveyard and death already haunted his dreams enough for him to linger any longer. Anakin suddenly felt tired and the idea of sleep was not comforting. Not for Anakin Skywalker anyway. Not for the past two years.

 

 

“General Kenobi, sir!” Cody called out as he saw Obi-Wan approaching. The clone commander had been standing by, waiting for the Jedi Generals for the past hour. Obi-Wan glanced at the scene before him. A clone was standing next to Cody, waving a stick of light. Two other clones were lifting a stretcher carrying one of their wounded. Four other troopers accompanied the procession, lighting the way with the lights on their blaster rifles. Cody lifted his own rifle, bathing Obi-Wan in white light. “Are you injured, sir?” Obi-Wan Kenobi looked worse for wear. Hair disheveled, face pale and drawn. _He looks like he’s in pain_ , Cody observed. He scrutinized Obi-Wan, noting the set of the jaw and unfocused eyes. It was what a soldier looked like when enduring some manner of injury. He has seen his comrades wear the expression enough times to know it. Obi-Wan flicked his lightsaber off, hooked it to his utility belt, and walked up to Cody. He was glad to see the man in one piece. “Never better.” Obi-Wan offered a quick smile. “But thank you, Cody. Status report?”

“Communications are down. We are working on it as we speak. Base camp already set up in a cave located 800 yards northeast from here. Troop casualties 411, wounded 62, functioning survivors 177. We await your command to continue or abandon the mission, general.” Obi-Wan had placed his hand over his mouth, thumb hooked under his chin, his other hand cradling his elbow. His customary contemplative pose. It reassured the clone commander. “We will contact the council when communications is working again and consult with them.”

“Yes, sir. Where is General Skywalker?” At the mention of the name, Cody noticed an uncharacteristic hardness set in the Jedi General’s eyes. “He will be along soon.” Obi-Wan lowered his gaze and reached for his lightsaber. “I will meet you at base camp.” Cody nodded, “Yes, sir.” Obi-Wan paused to wipe the snow off Cody’s left shoulder. “Stay frosty,” he said and left. Cody smiled to himself and shook his head. _If he can snark, he’s alright_ , thought Cody. Cody turned to resume his watch. “Keep waving.” He instructed to the trooper with the homing signal. The trooper obeyed. Cody mused as to what might have happened between Kenobi and Skywalker. A vision of the two Jedi in combat, in perfect synch, played in his mind. It was mesmerizing to watch. Other Jedi do not fight like Skywalker and Kenobi did; as if one was the extension of the other. Other Jedi were never as _deadly_. Above all, Cody knew that if it were not for the two Jedi, he would not be standing here tonight, with at least some of his brothers. _The fallen can sleep_ , Cody thought gravely. As one who had been bred for the sole purpose of war, Cody wondered if he was perhaps flawed. The perfect soldier should not need so much capacity for feeling.

Not long after, a burst of snow caught Cody’s eye. He cocked his blaster rifle, wary. Moments later, the black-clad figure of Anakin Skywalker emerged, stalking down the path he had cleared. “Over here, sir!” Anakin approached the clone commander, turning off his lightsaber and scarcely stopping when he said, “Has Obi-Wan got in?”  

“Yes, General Skywalker, sir. About half an hour before you. He should be at base camp by now.” Cody watched the Jedi’s expression darken minutely. The scar above his right eye more livid than usual in the harsh white light. “Good. Lead on, Cody.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Nothing happens. Yet. (I'm new to all this plot moving...thing). Can't wait to finish exams SOON and write more. Meanwhile, feedback is much welcomed :D


	3. Chapter 3

               Anakin swept his gaze over the colossal ridge, its shadow made the orange glow emitting from the mouth of the cave stood out. The cave entrance was cut into the side of the ridge, a wide opening almost like a hangar bay. Stalactites framed its mouth like rows of sharp teeth. Overall, it gave the impression that one is walking into the open jaws of a fire-breathing dragon. To Anakin, it was an unwelcomed image.

 _Better than snow_ , he thought grimly, wiping the snowflakes off his leather tabards.

               The ridge sheltered the cave from the wind, meaning the heavy snowfall did not blow inside, Anakin noted this gratefully. The handful of clones standing guard at the entrance saluted their General and Commander. Inside, the cave was sizeable, more than enough to fit all the troopers. Its ceiling soared high and dark. Numerous sharp stalagmites protruded from the shadows. Small fires were set up here and there to make up for the limited number of torchlights available. The floors of the cave were smooth dark rock, its sides raised onto a platform-like second level, where the clones were tending to their wounded, laying in neat rows. Others were resting, organizing weaponry or setting up equipment. An air of post-battle lethargy hung about the cave.

“You better get some rest, sir. We will inform you and General Kenobi as soon as communications is up.” A trooper handed Anakin a ration bar, a flask of water and a blanket. Anakin thanked him. “Yes. We’ll discuss plans in the morning. You rest too, Cody.” Cody nodded, “Yes, sir.” Cody watched Anakin head deeper into the cave. _Like you ever sleep, Skywalker._ The clone commander thought to himself.

Anakin scanned the cave. Knowing Obi-Wan, Anakin looked for a secluded fire near the rocky walls and sure enough, there he was. Anakin walked soundlessly, and stood over his former master. Obi-Wan appeared to be sleeping. He was lying on his side, facing the small fire with his back against some rocks. He had used his blanket as a pillow, tucking it between his head and arm. Obi-Wan looked weary even as he slept. Yet, _younger_ , Anakin thought. Always younger, and infinitely more at peace. He seemed to Anakin, more the Obi-Wan he remembered before The Clone Wars started.

Anakin sighed softly, his anger dissipated. He set the flask and ration bar down and unfolded his blanket, throwing it over Obi-Wan. Anakin then sat on the opposite side of the fire. He drank from the flask and ignored the ration bar. Anakin lowered himself to the ground, and folded his arms behind his head, staring at the sharp stalagmites hanging above.

After a while, Anakin closed his eyes. He sought Obi-Wan’s Force signature through their bond. Obi-Wan’s shields were still up but they were not as tight as before, so Anakin sent tendrils of his Force through the gaps to intertwine with whatever of Obi-Wan’s he could reach. Anakin let Obi-Wan’s dreamless sleep imbue its deep calm within his own mind. This was normal. On the battlefield, when Anakin did not have Padme, he had Obi-Wan. This was enough. Anakin’s last thought as he drifted off was a single word, a name; _Padme_. This was routine.

 

 

 

_No!_

The word cut through Obi-Wan’s shields like a blade, his eyes flew open. It _hurt_. He heard scuffing and looked across the dying fire, Anakin was thrashing around on the cave floor. Obi-Wan sat up, holding his head. _Anakin_ , he called through their bond. Anakin’s mind was a tangled mess of emotions and images Obi-Wan could not make sense of. He saw masked men, wrapped in rags, brandishing primitive weapons. Then there was screaming, they were being _slaughtered_.

 _Anakin,_ Obi-Wan projected again, this time more insistent. Anakin did not respond, he kept moaning and writhing.

_You killed her_

               Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s murderous rage. It was too much, too _dark_.

He slammed his shields up, blocking the images and crawled on his knees to Anakin’s side. Obi-Wan reached to wake Anakin and suddenly Anakin’s hands were upon his wrists. Anakin’s eyes were open yet unseeing, a captive of his own mind.

“You’re dreaming.” Obi-Wan said carefully and Anakin’s grip tightened, Obi-Wan winced. Anakin had stopped writhing, his eyes unfocused. Obi-Wan sensed Anakin’s mind was open and vulnerable. He slowly lifted his shields and channeled his Force signature through their bond, invading Anakin’s mind with his presence. Obi-Wan felt like he walked into the eye of a tornado, his own mind drowned in Anakin’s pain. It almost made him scream.

 _Find him_. Obi-Wan steeled himself and searched for Anakin in the Force. Anakin’s consciousness was a flickering light, cowering at the onslaught of his nightmare. Obi-Wan reached and Anakin’s Force signature grappled with his, desperately seeking purchase. Obi-Wan held onto Anakin’s consciousness, extending his shields inside Anakin’s mind, around them both. Obi-Wan endured and gradually, the nightmare faded.

“I’m here. You’re safe. Go back to sleep.” Obi-Wan backed it with the Force, willing Anakin to bend to his words.

“You’re here…I’m safe…” Anakin repeated, his eyes fluttered and for a moment he seemed to recognize Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan felt his heart clench.  “Sleep,” he said and Anakin complied.

Anakin’s flesh hand relaxed as he fell asleep but not his robotic hand. Obi-Wan tried to prise Anakin’s hand open but Anakin twitched, a slight crease formed between his brows, so Obi-Wan stopped. He slowly moved to sit against a rock near Anakin’s head, trying not to jar Anakin too much.  Anakin rolled to his side, still clinging to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan flexed his wrist slightly, Anakin’s grip on it cutting into his flesh. _That is going to bruise_ , he thought and sighed.

The entire cave was quiet. Obi-Wan reasoned it must have still been nighttime. He used the Force with his free hand to throw a pile of twigs into the dying fire. He watched the fire crackle, the flames licked the twigs, consuming it, reducing it to ash. It was hypnotic, it dispelled Obi-Wan’s dark thoughts of what he saw in Anakin’s dream.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and wrapped Anakin’s Force signature more closely with his own. _You’re safe with me_ , was Obi-Wan’s last thought as his breaths slowed and he too began to slumber.

 

 

 

 

Anakin woke up feeling cold. He opened his eyes and found himself holding, _crushing,_ Obi-Wan’s wrist. Anakin instantly let go, realizing how tight his grip was. He pushed himself on his elbows, thinking, _what happened?_  

Anakin turned his head to look at Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan was still asleep, his left arm resting on his bent knee, his right leg stretched out in front of him. His head was bowed, his hair had grown a little long, falling over his face. Anakin could still feel Obi-Wan’s warm presence in his mind, the shields he erected still intact. _You did this…for me_ , Anakin thought as he watched Obi-Wan’s frame rise and fall with his even breaths.

Anakin knew all too well the nature of his night terrors but Obi-Wan had never gone to such lengths before. This was _new_. The simple love of Obi-Wan’s act kindled a deep longing in Anakin.

               Anakin sat up. He took Obi-Wan’s hand and deftly removed the plastoid armour covering the back of the hand and forearm, then gently pulled off the black glove, revealing a blue-black bruise around the wrist. A dark look crossed Anakin’s face. It seemed to him he always found a way to unintentionally hurt people close to him.

               Drawing on the Force, Anakin started healing the bruise. Obi-Wan’s fingers twitched. Anakin watched him stir. Obi-Wan lifted his head, blinking slowly, his eyes met Anakin’s, frowning and said, “That hurts.”

               Anakin chuckled, “Master, please, you’ve survived worse.”

“Oh, yes. I’ve survived _you._ ” Obi-Wan huffed, tilted his head back against the rock and closed his eyes. _He has no idea_ , Obi-Wan thought to himself.

Obi-Wan cracked an eye open. Anakin’s lips met hard. He said nothing. _You’ve done it again, Kenobi._

“Done what?” Anakin asked as he checked Obi-Wan’s wrist.

Obi-Wan forgot that Anakin was inside his shields, _with_ him. Naturally, Obi-Wan began to withdraw, ripping himself away from Anakin’s mind. Anakin squeezed Obi-Wan’s wrist, his fingers dug into the newly healed flesh.

“Don’t.” Anakin said softly, barely a whisper. His eyes staring at where their hands met.

Obi-Wan paused but did not stop. He merely withdrew more slowly, caressing Anakin’s Force signature with his own as he pulled away, trying to reassure. He leaned forward and placed his other hand on Anakin’s shoulder.

This was routine too. A customary gesture in Obi-Wan’s part. The familiar pressure on his shoulder however, did not alleviate the blow. He was tired of Obi-Wan’s abrupt rejections of their closeness. Sometimes Obi-Wan seemed to want to be close. Anakin remember the odd flashes of what could only be described as hunger in Obi-Wan’s eyes. But then, Obi-Wan also always does _this_. He projected all of this. He wanted Obi-Wan to _know._

Anakin lifted his chin. His eyes bored into Obi-Wan’s, they smoldered with thinly veiled anger. Obi-Wan’s was all steely, blue and unreadable.

Obi-Wan held Anakin’s gaze only for a moment before lowering his own. He removed his left hand from Anakin’s shoulder, tugging his right slightly. Anakin held fast.

 _Damn him_ , both Obi-Wan and Anakin thought savagely. Each secluded in their own anguish at the other.

“It’s not… _healthy._ ” Obi-Wan offered, still not meeting Anakin’s gaze.

“Well, what _you’re_ doing isn’t either.” Anakin’s voice was cold.

“Hardly.”  Was Obi-Wan’s tight reply.

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan’s hand again. He grazed his thumb over the knuckles, down the fingers. Obi-Wan’s hands were fine-boned, his fingers tapering and thin. This was the hand that had raised Anakin, the hand that cared for and protected him till this very day. This hand had saved lives, delivered death. Anakin wondered how many had examined Obi-Wan’s hand like he was now. He turned Obi-Wan’s hand, resting his thumb in Obi-Wan’s palm. _This is home_ , he thought.

Obi-Wan did not look, he stared at the floor. He resisted the urge to pull his hand away. Obi-Wan’s acquiesce did not escape Anakin. Obi-Wan was _allowing_ him. It was enough.  

Anakin started putting the black glove back on, drawing the skin tight material to the elbow, tucking in the tunic sleeve neatly. Anakin was gentle. He replaced the plastoid armour around Obi-Wan’s forearm and finally the hand guard. He lightly grasped Obi-Wan’s wrist, not letting go. They had lapsed into comfortable silence.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan’s eyes had gone soft.

“Yeah.” Anakin said, his usual lopsided grin in place.

“I believe the appropriate reply is _you’re welcome_.”

“What you said.” Anakin said as he stood up.

They were sitting in the shadows of the rock, sunlight was streaming into the cave. A ray caught Anakin in its soft light. Dust particles were visible about his head, making him looked rather angelic. Obi-Wan committed the image to memory. Moments where Anakin seemed even remotely carefree had grown too rare.

Anakin offered his hand to Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan grasped Anakin’s forearm, and Anakin pulled him up. “Let’s ask Master Yoda if we can leave already. I’m sick of snow.”

“I’m with you on that.” Obi-Wan replied, his eyes adjusting to the bright. Anakin headed towards the cave entrance, Obi-Wan followed.

_I’m with you always._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this stage, I'm just trying to get the hang of this really. Plot devices be damned, sadly, I'm just going with gut feeling ha..ha. Will start working on chapter 4 a.s.a.p. (Do people even enjoy this? Idek).


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> News of Palpatine's abduction reaches Anakin & Obi-Wan.

               “Find the Generals and tell them we have a message from the Jedi Council.” Cody instructed to a clone sergeant. Cody had his helmet off, tucked to his side. He rubbed at his eyes, and ran his hand through his short hair. He had been getting migraines lately, which was strange, and extremely irksome for the clone commander. _Probably just the glare_ , Cody thought.

               Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi emerged from the cave, squinting in the daylight. Sunshine made the snow blindingly bright. “At least, it’s not snowing anymore.” Obi-Wan remarked upon seeing Anakin’s obvious distaste at the white landscape before them. Anakin grunted a reply.

 _Back to monosyllabic complaints_ … Thought Obi-Wan. Not that he himself cared much for the white and fluffy menace. Obi-Wan glanced at the ground, the snow had melted considerably. The ground was still carpeted in it but it was only inches deep.

They approached Cody. He was standing a little ways away from the cave entrance, just outside the shadow of the ridge. A clone trooper was kneeling in the snow beside him, tinkering with the communications equipment set on a tarpaulin.

Cody greeted the Jedi generals and put his helmet back on. He had had enough of the glare.

“We received a message from the Council?” Anakin addressed Cody.

“Yes, sir. We’ve only just received it minutes ago but I suspect the message was relayed much earlier.” Cody turned to the other trooper, “Play the message.”

A blue hologram of Mace Windu in the Jedi council room flickered to life.

“Greetings. Relay this message to Generals Skywalker and Kenobi A.S.A.P. Supreme Chancellor Palpatine has been abducted by Count Dooku. He is being held hostage aboard the _Invisible Hand_.”

Anakin inhaled sharply, his hands fisting. Obi-Wan’s brows drew together, he crossed his arms and glanced at Anakin briefly.

“The separatist army are closing in. An attack on Coruscant is imminent. Abort the mission on Ansion and return to Coruscant immediately. A rescue team has been sent with Master Plo Koon to aid you. He will fill you in on your next mission. May the Force be with you.”

 “Start a homing signal to receive the rescue team.” Obi-Wan addressed the trooper manning the communications equipment. Obi-Wan then turned to Cody, “Make preparations for departure. They could arrive any time now, I believe.”

“Yes, sir.” The clone commander quickly jogged back towards the cave.

 _Just when most of the Jedi are engaged in the Outer Rims…cunning indeed._ Obi-Wan thought, rubbing his beard. Logistics and war schemes ran through his mind. He cannot help but marvel a little at the simplicity of the Separatist’s war strategy. It was text-book ‘ _divide and conquer’_.

Simple but brilliant. With the Republic fleets spread throughout the Outer Rim Territories and the Coruscant Defense Fleet depleted and off guard, it was a perfect opportunity for the Separatists to deal a mighty blow to the Republic by attacking Coruscant. Dooku’s carefully planned propaganda, which he airs from the _Wizard’s Tower_ on the _Invisible Hand_ no doubt had most of the galaxy believing a total Separatist victory was near.

 _Wizard’s Tower_. Obi-Wan scoffed in his mind.

He was jolted out of his reverie by Anakin walking away towards some raised rocks under direct sunlight. There the snow had melted completely.

Obi-Wan tested their bond. He felt Anakin’s worry. With it, near imperceptible tinges of _Fear_ and _Anger_. If Obi-Wan had not spent the night with his mind fused with Anakin’s he would probably not be able to pick it up through their bond.

Obi-Wan was aware that Anakin confides in Palpatine. Anakin tells Palpatine things he expects Obi-Wan to never understand. He regarded Palpatine as a mentor.

 _A friend, even._ An odd feeling accompanied that particular thought. A mixture of discomfort…and something else.

_Jealousy?_

Obi-Wan stiffened momentarily. He willed himself to forget the thought ever crossed his mind and went to Anakin. 

“ _Kriffing_ Sith.” Anakin suddenly spat. “He will _pay._ ”

The venom in Anakin’s voice chilled Obi-Wan. It reminded him of the anger he glimpsed in Anakin’s nightmare.

“Mind your language.” Obi-Wan replied levelly, and added, “Our mission is almost definitely to rescue the Supreme Chancellor. Dooku is using Palpatine as leverage to terrorize people. He will not harm Palpatine for _effect_. It is not his…style.”

“Yeah. I suppose not.” Anakin replied after a while.

Fear ate at Anakin Skywalker. He was lost in a secret anguish. An anguish revolving around his fear of losing the people he cared for. It was a most un _jedi_ feeling.

But he had not felt like a Jedi for a long time now. And when Ahsoka left, Anakin’s desire to be a good Jedi left with her. Ahsoka’s leaving and his mother’s passing were already more than he could bear. He was _not_ going to lose anybody else. Not Palpatine, not Padme, not Obi-Wan. He will make sure of it.

Obi-Wan was silent as he watched Anakin. He could barely make out the frayed edges of Anakin’s hidden turmoil but it was there. And it was _dark._

Anakin avoided Obi-Wan’s eyes. Always so blue, so quietly _demanding_.

 _Those eyes see through me_ , he thought.

 He watched instead Obi-Wan’s breath becoming a frosty cloud that hovered for a second in the clear morning air. It seemed to Anakin to be a secret manifestation of Obi-Wan’s concern for him. Deep down inside him, his dark conviction intensified.

 _Whatever it takes_. Anakin’s mind whispered. _I will save everyone_.

Obi-Wan did not like the look he was seeing in Anakin’s eyes. It made him feel Anakin was _far_ from him. Somewhere excruciatingly distant, unreachable even through the Force. Obi-Wan felt a strange desire to shake Anakin. Or just crush him close. He could not decide.

 _Anything to keep him here,_ he thought.

The humming sound of repulsor engines broke the moment. Both Jedi looked to the direction of the sound, about the colossal ridge. A fleet of LAAT/i ships descended from the sky above. Among them, three ships bore the familiar ‘insignia’ spelling _Plo’s Bros_. The ships landed in the clearing near Obi-Wan and Anakin.

Jedi Master Plo Koon emerged, followed by his Wolfpack troopers. Commander Wolffe saluted the Jedi Generals and quickly made off with his team to the cave where the troopers were already preparing to board.

“Kenobi. Good to see you again.” Said Plo Koon in his ever calm and dignified tone.

“Likewise, Master Plo.” Said Obi-Wan, inclining his head in respect. Plo Koon’s aura in the Force was an unyielding calm. Obi-Wan welcomed it.

Plo Koon then turned to Anakin, regarding him for a moment then said, “ _Koh-toh-yah_ , young Skywalker.”

Anakin was stunned. He collected himself and immediately replied, “ _Koh-toh-yah_ , Master Plo.” He bowed his head deeply.

To outsiders, the simple greeting in the Kel Dorian language was just another ‘Hello’, but to the three Jedi, it held an unspeakable sentiment. It was Plo Koon’s and Ahsoka’s personal greeting. It was a term of endearment, of steadfast _love_. It was an act of remembrance of Ahsoka, of her permanence in their circle.

Plo Koon extended his arms and held each Obi-Wan and Anakin by their upper arms. Both Obi-Wan and Anakin reciprocated by grasping Plo Koon’s elbow. Despite the mask, they knew the Kel Dorian was smiling. All three Jedi embraced the kindred affection overflowing in the Force.

“I trust you have received Master Windu’s message. We are to return to Coruscant and assemble a counter attack against the separatist warships currently in Coruscant’s airspace.  You two, specifically, are to board the _Invisible Hand,_ rescue the Supreme Chancellor and bring Count Dooku into custody. As for me, I will engage Grievous.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Anakin said and grinned at Obi-Wan.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan replied warily before addressing Plo Koon, “Master Plo, when did the abduction occur?”

“Last night, while he exited his ship on the landing bay. He is still alive. Count Dooku contacted the ships we sent to negotiate with him showing Palpatine unharmed.”

“How kind of him.” Obi-Wan commented. “I expect Dooku means Palpatine to declare a Separatist victory and occupy Coruscant?” said Obi-Wan, rubbing his beard.

“Indeed. You are no stranger to the Count’s motives.” Said Plo Koon amusedly.

“Well, he will _not._ This time, we’re going to _win._ ” Anakin interjected.

Just then, Commander Wolffe jogged to them, “Generals, we will depart in 15 minutes.”

“Thank you, Commander. Let us board now.” Plo Koon motioned to Anakin and Obi-Wan and headed for the ship he arrived in.

               Anakin went in first, Obi-Wan hung back. He watched Anakin’s back disappeared after Plo Koon, then looked at the sun climbing the sky. It was starting to snow again.  In the distance, dark clouds gathered.

               Obi-Wan bent his head and raised his right hand, flexing it. He thought of Anakin’s bruising grip on it, and of the gentleness that followed. Snowflakes fell into his open palm. He thought of Anakin’s durasteel hand in his. The power that hand wielded.

He thought of how the same hand had saved his life in countless occasions, was also apt to hurt him. Obi-Wan could not decipher the convoluted feelings it evoked.

Obi-Wan let his hand fall and glanced at the sky one last time. He inhaled the crisp fresh air, relishing in it.

 _Breathing seems harder these days._ He thought absently.

From inside the ship, Anakin watched Obi-Wan standing in the snow. He looked so alone. His profile stood out sharply against the white expanse. Sunshine touched Obi-Wan’s hair and beard with gold. He was reminded of the warmth of Obi-Wan’s shields around him last night. Anakin drank in the sight.

Anakin leaned his head out of the ship and called, “Obi-Wan, hurry up!”

Obi-Wan started, gave him an odd exasperated smile and went to the ship.

The journey from Ansion to Coruscant was short. Obi-Wan managed to fell asleep as soon as he was buckled to his seat. Anakin kept awake. He almost never slept in spaceships. It was always too cold for him, former slave-boy from a desert planet.

When in space, Anakin thinks of his beautiful wife, his _angel_ , Padme. How he misses her. Even when he is with her he misses her. Padme was his calm and chaos.

When in space, amongst brilliant stars, in the folds of muted cold darkness, all was Padme.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19 BBY The Battle of Coruscant rages on. Anakin & Obi-Wan is tasked to rescue Palpatine.

“Obi-Wan, wake up.” Anakin shook Obi-Wan by his shoulder.

               “What-what?” Obi-Wan replied groggily.

               “We’re in a bit of trouble.” Plo Koon gestured to the transparisteel viewport.

               Framed in front of them was a full-on space battle between massive Separatist warships and Republic Starfighters. Red, green and blue blaster fires flashed like fireworks. Fiery explosions bloomed everywhere. Shrapnel flew like missiles every which way.

               It was hard to tell which side was winning but Obi-Wan suspect the Separatist had the upper hand. He knew how sparse the Coruscant Defense Fleet had become since the Outer Rims Seiges began.

               When was the last time the Jedi engaged in a space battle at this scale? Obi-Wan could not remember. It was strangely scenic, with the innumerable stars in the background. It was eerie how for such a violent scene there was no sound. Space was a symphony of silence. A void of seeming nothingness.

               But it was all the same anyhow. A battlefield was a battlefield. It was kill or be killed. The only difference was that in space, it was all the more _fatal._

               “Home sweet home.” Obi-Wan said caustically, completely awake now.

               Presently, several Republic Starfighters surrounded the rescue fleet, fending off lasers and vulture droids.

               “Our escorts are here.” Plo Koon said, somewhat relieved.

               “Hang tight, team!” Comet, member of the Wolfpack yelled before swerving with their Republic escorts. “We’re nearly there.”

               Obi-Wan blanched inwardly, gripping the armrests as his insides dropped. He _disliked_ flying. He then realized he was going to have to pilot a Starfighter himself to get to the _Invisible Hand_. The thought almost made him groan out load.

               “Excited, master?” Anakin asked, lifting his brows.

He took an inordinate amount of pleasure in Obi-Wan’s distaste for flying. Well, in anything that threatened Obi-Wan’s Jedi composure really. It just happened to be flying, which also happened to be what Anakin was a prodigy at. At 22 years of age, Anakin Skywalker was already the best Starfighter pilot in the galaxy.

               “Why don’t you sit down and strap yourself in, hm?” Obi-Wan offered a short sarcastic smile. Anakin responded by ripping Obi-Wan’s death grip on one of the armrests and sat on it instead. He draped his left arm over Obi-Wan’s head rest and plastered on his most winning smile, saying, “Oh, but the view is best _right_ here.” He gestured at Obi-Wan’s seat.

               Obi-Wan gave him a withering look.

               Just then, the rescue fleet breached Coruscant’s atmosphere, jolting the ship again. Obi-Wan reflexively grabbed Anakin’s knee, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. An ‘uncivilized’ swear word most probably. He did not need to look to know that Anakin was smirking. Anakin was already looking forward to the colourful language flying was going to make Obi-Wan employ.

Alarms started to sound, and red lights flashed in the ship.

               “That can’t be good.” Obi-Wan’s teeth was set on edge.

               “Will we make it to the landing bay, Comet?” Plo Koon asked calmly opposite Obi-Wan.

               “Yes, sir. We lost one of the engines but we should make it in time.”

               “It’ll be _fine_.” Anakin added offhandedly. Obi-Wan pointedly ignored him and pretended Anakin was just a talkative extension of his armrest. Plo Koon simply shook his head.

               “Haha, that’s the spirit, sir!” Comet replied.

               Not long after, the ship safely landed at Coruscant’s Defense Fleet Hangar. The entire rescue fleet as well as their escorts survived the trip.

               Anakin jumped off the armrest, “Good job, Comet.” Then turned to Obi-Wan, “That was fun, right?”

               “Right.” Obi-Wan got out of his seat and stepped out. He lifted his head to the sky. The battle was already breaching Coruscant’s atmosphere. He could make out Republic Starfighters engaging Separatist warships.

               Anakin went to stand next to Obi-Wan and draped his arm over him, “Savour your ground time, Master. We’re crashing the party pretty soon.”

               Obi-Wan frowned at the sky and made a disapproving noise.

               “It’ll be _fun_. Trust me.” Anakin squeezed Obi-Wan’s shoulders.

               “Might I remind you to _focus_ on the mission?” Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow.

               Anakin stepped away and raised his hands in front of him, “Focus is important, of course. But _fun_ is as well.” He started backing away, still grinning. Anakin then started to jog in the direction opposite from the hangar’s entrance, yelling over his shoulder, “I’ll see you in five!”

               “Where do you think you’re go-”

               Anakin’s reply was a wave of his hand over his head. Obi-Wan exhaled in exasperation. He did not even want to think what Anakin might be up to.

 

 

 

 

               Anakin ran to the nearest public comlink he knew of, selected the ‘voice only message’ option and dialed the code for Padme’s comm device.

               “It’s me. I’m back but I’m leaving again. I will see you very soon.” Anakin spoke quickly then paused, the only sound was that of his breathing. He thought of all the things he wanted to say but could not, things like _‘I love you’_ , _‘I miss you’,_ and _‘I want to kiss you’_. Anakin let his emotions ran through, as if he could write them into an intangible message that he was sure Padme would simply _know_ without him needing to say them. Only then he hung up.

 

 

 

 

“Thank you, Cody.” Said Obi-Wan as Cody handed him his headset. Obi-Wan climbed into the cockpit and looked at the clone commander, saying, “Let’s hope I survive this time.”

“You will, sir.” Cody said firmly.

What he did not say was; _You have Skywalker with you, Kenobi. Death with wings. As long as Skywalker breathes, so will you._

Not a shadow of worry crossed Cody’s mind. When Kenobi flew with Skywalker, victory come swiftly.

“Why, thank you for the confidence.” Obi-Wan replied amusedly. Cody nodded, saluted his General and ran off to do his duties.

“Arfour, run a diagnostic. I don’t need things going wrong when I’m _flying_.” Obi-Wan instructed to the astromech co-piloting his Starfighter. He uttered the word ‘flying’ like it was a disease. R4 beeped an affirmative and the screen before Obi-Wan filled with status reports.

Obi-Wan systematically ran through the pre-flight protocols. Now _this_ he liked. This was order. But Flying? Flying is _madness._

Obi-Wan heard quick footsteps and looked out of his cockpit. Anakin ran to the yellow Starfighter parked next to Obi-Wan’s and vaulted onto the wing. His headset already in place.

“You’re late.” Obi-Wan stated.

“Out of my control.” Anakin replied, climbing into his seat and started reeling off instructions to R2-D2. After he was done he turned to Obi-Wan, asking, “Where’s Master Plo?”

“You missed the briefing. Change of plans. You and I are handling Dooku and Grievous. Apparently they’re both on the _Invisible Hand_. Master Plo has been tasked to lead the Coruscant Defense Fleet instead of Master Vos. His ship crashed.”

“Is he alright?” Anakin asked distractedly whilst examining the data flashing on his screen. His voice registered to Obi-Wan through the headset.

“Non-fatal injuries. The usual.”

“Okay, are we all set then?” Anakin beamed at Obi-Wan.

“Yes, yes.” Obi-Wan replied impatiently.

Both Jedi closed the transparisteel canopy of their cockpits and reversed their Starfighters. A trooper was standing outside the hangar, holding the flags to signal for take-off.

 _Obi-Wan_. Anakin demanded through their bond. He lifted his shields and pressed gently against Obi-Wan’s.

Obi-Wan took a shuddering breath. _This again_. He lifted his shields and welcomed Anakin in The Force.

The rush Obi-Wan felt was keener each time. His vision flashed, his nerves burned white hot, his heartbeat exploded. This time, Obi-Wan was not passive. He greeted each and every tendril of Anakin’s Force with his own. This time, Anakin felt what _he_ felt.

 _Kriff._ Anakin exclaimed in the Force, his breath hitched. He never imagined _this_. It _burned_. It was at once too much and never enough.

 _Now, you know._ Obi-Wan strained to mind-speak.

Anakin did not reply. Anakin simply _did._

Obi-Wan suddenly felt every tendril of Anakin’s force pressing in on him just a little more. It felt like a tight embrace through the Force. If Obi-Wan felt like he was on fire before, _now_ he was a dying star collapsing into itself.

Anakin eased off slowly, he had never felt this much of another’s being. He could barely think and neither did Obi-Wan. The Force sang _between_ and _in_ them, pulsing in waves that crescendoed and echoed as it faded. _Again and again._

As their heartbeats slowed and synchronized, both felt as one.

 _Together,_ both thought and answered.

And then they were in the sky.

 

 

Two Jedi Starfighters cut through the sky, breaching the atmosphere, entering space. One red, one yellow. They manoeuvred as a pair, flying close together, painting perfect lines and curves. Spinning, climbing, falling.

They skimmed the gargantuan warships, evading missiles and disposing of vulture fighters with effortless efficacy. They flew in intimate death-defying feats, the underbellies, wingtips and transparisteel cockpits of their Starfighters in turns nearly touching. 

Skywalker and Kenobi, Jedi heroes of The Republic. Brothers in arms. Sword and shield of Coruscant. _The Team_ will save the day. They always do.

“This is where the _fun_ begins.” Anakin’s voice crackled through the comm set.

The battle raged on. Coruscant’s airspace was ablaze. Deaths were inevitable. Obi-Wan asked Anakin to stop trying to save the clones flying alongside them, he eventually relented. And even then it was only when Obi-Wan himself was under attack.

Anakin Skywalker felt powerless. He could _not_ save everyone. His anger was dull in the Force. This was not new. War has that effect. It scorches out _everything_.

Obi-Wan Kenobi knew, he felt it too.

Still, they both pretended that war did not, each day break them.

The _Invisible Hand_ came into view. Both Jedi Starfighters were swarmed with vulture droids. Obi-Wan’s lost a wing, he was half-crashing, half-flying towards the command warship.

While Anakin shot the shield generators of the warship’s hangar, Obi-Wan realized he was losing altitude. He was not going to make it. He was going to crash headlong into the warship’s side.

_Anakin, I’m-_

_Don’t you **dare**._

Anakin yelled at R2-D2 to fly at full throttle. He let go of the controls and closed his eyes, extending both arms in front of him, fingers splayed. He reached for the Force, the Force answered.

Obi-Wan felt it in his own hands, the weight of his Starfighter, his _life,_ in Anakin’s outstretched hands.

Anakin lifted Obi-Wan’s Starfighter, sending them both skidding into the hangar. Sparks flew, metal screamed on metal.

Obi-Wan ejected himself from his Starfighter before it even stopped moving, blue energy igniting mid vault. He landed with a flourish, swinging his lightsaber in a wide arc, destroying a group of droids in a single sweep.

Anakin stumbled out of his Starfighter, falling onto his knees. He reached out an arm just in time to stop himself from hitting the floor. He felt concussed, _drained._ Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s fatigue through their bond, he turned to see Anakin doubled over. He was too far, droids were approaching Anakin, raising their blasters. Obi-Wan’s heart skipped a beat.

_Not him._

He planted himself and extended his arms, Force-pushing Anakin’s Starfighter into the droids, crushing them.  He quickly made for Anakin.

“Anakin, are you alright?” Obi-Wan’s voice was clipped with emotion. His hands wound tight across Anakin’s back and upper arms. He helped Anakin up, supporting him.

“Yeah. Just give me a minute.” Anakin breathed hard.

Wrapped in concern, Obi-Wan did not notice a door in the hangar opening.

“Welcome aboard, _Jedi_.” Count Dooku drawled. He was flanked with a dozen or so magna guards, their electrosaffs crackling menacingly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is where the canon divergence begins.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle with Dooku and Palpatine's rescue.

Anakin’s vision swam, he leaned heavy into Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s face was close to his, searching through their bond for signs of injuries. Anakin had never seen him look so tormented. Anakin wanted to speak, to tell Obi-Wan he was fine but even speaking was strenuous.

_I’m…fine._

_Are you, really?_ Was Obi-Wan’s quick reply.

_Just…need…a moment._

Anakin’s projections was barely coherent.

Obi-Wan ran his hands quickly over Anakin’s torso, checking for physical injuries. He found none and lowered Anakin back to the ground. Only then he directed his attention to Dooku.

Obi-Wan shrugged off his cloak and stood over Anakin, lightsaber at the ready.

Dooku instructed his magna guards to regenerate the shield protecting the hangar. He started prowling around the two Jedi, his lined face was that of smug indifference. He assessed Skywalker’s condition from afar, and was satisfied that the boy was not going to die any time soon. His master had commanded him not to harm Skywalker. Skywalker was to be part of the Sith’s Grand Plan.

_Kenobi, though could be disposed of._

“How desperate _are_ the Jedi? Sending an invalid and an incompetent to rescue the Republic’s precious Chancellor.” Dooku articulated in his cultured baritone.

“Enough to handle an elderly such as you.” Obi-Wan countered. He had schooled his face into a mask of mock amusement. Dooku’s upper lip curled in disdain.

“We shall see.” Dooku signaled his magna guards to stand down and ignited his lightsaber. It casted a sinister red light over the Count’s maniacal grin.

Obi-Wan powered up his own and fell into his signature Soresu posture. Lightsaber held high beside his temple, his off-hand extended in front of him, three fingers outstretched.

Anakin lifted his gaze to look at Obi-Wan and surged their bond with his Force. Obi-Wan felt _electric_. He will fight for them both.

Dooku lunged first, Obi-Wan met him half-way, their lightsabers clashing in a fiery flash. Dooku took a step back and jabbed, Obi-Wan parried it with a half turn. Obi-Wan deflected Dooku’s quick cuts and thrusts with precision, establishing a rhythm of attack and counter-attacks between them. A deadly dance of equal footing. Dooku played along for a while, testing Obi-Wan.

_Nothing new in Soresu, Kenobi._

Dooku retreated suddenly and threw his left hand in front of him. Obi-Wan anticipated the attack and met Dooku’s Force-push with one of his own. Both parties skidded backwards, neither was thrown off-balance.

“Well, well. Your powers have grown, Kenobi.” Dooku was genuinely surprised. He had never thought Kenobi capable of such precise use of the Force.

 _You’re wrong._ Obi-Wan thought. He felt Anakin’s Force fueling him. Alone, he would not be capable of it.

Anakin’s vision was still out of focus, he was unable to stand. He concentrated instead on helping Obi-Wan rather than wait for himself to regain energy. He could not be sure how long that would take. His head felt so heavy.

 _But I am still better._ Dooku thought, lightsaber poised. He dashed forward, thrusting his lightsaber, using the Force to back his movement.

Obi-Wan held his lightsaber up, absorbing the Count’s attack. Obi-Wan did not even budge. Dooku was aghast and quickly retreated.

Jedi and Sith circled each other.

 _Something is wrong here._ Dooku thought. _Something is different with Kenobi._

 _Anakin._ Obi-Wan spoke the name like a request through their bond. Anakin understood immediately.

_This time, we do it together._

Obi-Wan once more fell into his Soresu stance and lunged. Dooku snarled and met the attack with full force. Their lightsabers clashed violently.

The deadly dance began again but this time, with each swing of his lightsaber, Obi-Wan slowly adopted Djem So in place of his Soresu. He hacked and slashed, his limbs singing with Anakin’s Force signature. With each step, Obi-Wan’s attacks increased in force and power. He felt Anakin’s strength hewn into the hard lines of his shoulders, his lower back, right down to the back of his legs, his ankles. His fingertips burned, in a _good_ way. Obi-Wan felt _indomitable._   

Obi-Wan’s moves was graceful, fluid and relentless _._ He was gaining the upper hand on Dooku, pushing his foe back, waiting to draw an error.

 _Impossible._ Dooku thought in horror.

He could _feel_ Skywalker _within_ Kenobi. He had heard of _Force-synchrony_ before but it was only _myth_. In all of the Jedi and Sith Holocrons he ever studied, _none_ had achieved _total_ Force-synchrony and survived.

Dooku glanced at Anakin still kneeling on the floor. It made sense now. Kenobi and Skywalker were fighting _together_. Two complementary halves forged into one.

Obi-Wan and Dooku eventually ended in a dead-lock. Blue and Red lightsabers crossed close to the hilt. Dooku’s arms shuddered with effort. He peered at Obi-Wan over their blades. And he saw, plain as day. Skywalker’s hard edge in Kenobi’s eyes.

_Blue in blue._

Dooku distinctly felt _fear_ growing in him, he was actually _losing_ ground. Suddenly, _Death_ seemed like a real threat. “Guards, _kill Skywalker.”_ He yelled, spit flying. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. He could hear electrostaffs crackling.

 _Anakin_ , he thought. Desperation bleeding into his tone.

_Obi-Wan, now._

He _felt_ , rather than heard Anakin, and moved with Anakin’s guidance.

Obi-Wan snarled and side-stepped, throwing Dooku off-balance. The Count stumbled forwards, grazing the entire length of Obi-Wan’s right arm with his lightsaber. Obi-Wan roared and swung his lightsaber in a cross upper-cut, beheading his foe.

The Count was no more.

Not missing a beat, Obi-Wan turned and ran, vaulting over the magna guards circling Anakin. He landed on a knee in front of Anakin, and slammed his palms onto the metal floor, creating a Force-shockwave that sent the magna guards flying. Several flew into the hangar shields, obliterating them.

Obi-Wan staggered to his feet, standing protectively over Anakin. His lungs heaved with the effort. He crouched, willing himself to stay upright. Every sinew of muscle in his body screamed in protest.

Anakin closed his eyes, he felt Obi-Wan’s pain and blacked out. With Anakin falling unconscious, Obi-Wan felt the energy draining from his body, Anakin’s Force _ripping_ away from him. It was pain beyond compare. He was being torn asunder from within.

Obi-Wan was at the edge of exertion but surrender was not an option.

The surviving two magna guards approached Obi-Wan, purple electrostaffs raised. Their red eyes glowed menacingly. Obi-Wan’s burnt sleeve dangled off his right arm, trailing at his side. He tore it off and let his lightsaber fall clattering to the floor. Obi-Wan advanced on the magna guards, both his arms outstretched. With a final surge, he called on the Force, lifting the magna guards and threw them into the hangar shields.

 Obi-Wan doubled over, his hands fell on his knees. Breathing was so _difficult_. His arms shook. Shivers wracked his body.

 _Stay awake, Kenobi_. He snapped at himself.

Obi-Wan heard the hangar doors opening again, and dread seeped icy into his veins. He was out of tricks. He could barely _stand_ as it was.

“General, Kenobi.” Palpatine’s alarmed voice greeted him “What _happened,_ here?”

If one were to look carefully at Palpatine, one would notice the concern in his voice did not reach his eyes. They roved over the scene, cold and calculating. Dooku dead.

_No surprise there._

Palpatine’s eyes rested on Obi-Wan’s bent figure and then on Anakin unconscious on the floor. He made for Anakin, rolled him over and checked for a pulse.

“Chancellor, how?” Obi-Wan breathed.

"I was left unattended, so I escaped." Palpatine shrugged.

Obi-Wan could almost laugh. He staggered towards Palpatine and Anakin. “How is he?”

“He’s breathing. I don’t think he’s at all hurt.”

 _Who had killed the Count?_ He wondered silently. Palpatine’s gaze found Obi-Wan’s discarded lightsaber and contemplated doing away with the intrusive Jedi once and for all.

“He’s alright.” Obi-Wan exhaled and closed his eyes.

Palpatine felt Obi-Wan’s relief rolling off him, resonating in The Force. His eyes narrowed, dissecting Obi-Wan.

 _He feels for Skywalker._ Palpatine concluded. _Deeply._

The time had finally come to utilize Kenobi to his purposes. He had been waiting for this moment to come. He had _forseen_ it. Palpatine was reminded of the time he realized he could use Kenobi. It was before The Clone Wars began, before even The Battle of Geonosis…

 

 

[ _flashback_ ]

Anakin observed Palpatine from his post by the door. Palpatine wore his usual benign smile, his voice a pleasant tone that mismatched his eyes, which hid an edge that will disappear as soon as one were to pay attention to it.

Some say Palpatine is merely ‘sharp’, being the intelligent visionary that he was, or at least that is the image the HoloNews had cast him as. Obi-Wan would use less favourable words, like ‘cunning’, said in a subtle way that only Anakin could interpret as mistrust in his master’s part.

Or really, Obi-Wan would flat out call the chancellor a ‘politician’, which, granted he was, but Anakin disliked Obi-Wan’s inflexibility with the term. Obi-Wan even lumped Padme in the same ‘species’.

Anakin was not entirely insensitive to what Obi-Wan tries to hide. Anakin knew, anything pertaining to the events that led up to Qui-Gon’s death was like touching an open wound with a hot branding iron. It just so happened that Padme brought up bad memories in Obi-Wan’s part Anakin supposes. Anakin on the other hand, remember nothing but soft beauty and passion whenever he thought of Padme.

A frown was starting to tug at Anakin’s features. He fancied himself looking serene but who was he kidding, he had been standing by the door for three hours. If he glanced at the tinted windows that framed Coruscant’s skyline, he would be met with an expression that spelled bored-the-jedi-braid-off-my-head.

Anakin huffed and flexed his back, rolling his shoulders imperceptibly. Not that the chancellor and the two sentients, which looked like moving mounds of mud would notice anyway but Anakin fancied triumph in not giving in to being ‘undisciplined’ while on duty. Anakin broadcasted that thought to his master, just as an added incentive. Maybe Obi-Wan would spare him a lecture on propriety…for a lecture on shielding. He had not had that lecture in a while. Would be a nice change.

 _I can give you a lecture right this instant if you don’t stop this now. I’m in a council meeting._ Obi-Wan projected.

Anakin grinned in spite of himself.

_Yes, master. Also, do yourself a favour and just yawn when you have to. Nobody cares. I’ve seen Master Yoda do it._

Anakin lifted his chin a little as he projected his thought, the customary petulance written all over his face. He could feel Obi-Wan’s friendly amusement through their bond.

_Alright, Anakin. That is enough. I’ll see you later. Focus on your task._

With that, their bond went back to its usual tone, a quiet presence of the other, like a light touch on the shoulder.

Anakin threw his glance at the see-through meeting room again. Palpatine had gotten up and was ushering his guests towards the exit. Anakin straightened his back and walked away from the main doors.As far as he was concerned, he was on ‘security detail’ for the chancellor, not the doorman. It was not uncommon anymore for padawans about his age to occasionally be requested as protection when the chancellor have meetings with parties that are said to indulge in what one would call ‘unsavory’ business from the outer rims, or even, just the lower levels of Coruscant. Especially given the recent attacks on some senators by hired bounty hunters. Word is that there are opportunists in the senate vying to create unrest for personal gains, strategizing to make way for the separatists, with intention to join them once conditions are favourable.

As Palpatine closed the doors, he smiled at Anakin, this time it matched his eyes.

“Thank you for coming to babysit this old crone, Anakin. I honestly did try to convince them that there is no need to trouble the Jedi this time around.” Palpatine wore a look of exasperation and motioned Anakin into the meeting room.

“It’s no trouble, chancellor. The assassination of senator Veer-Di last week is a definite threat. The Jedi will do all it can to help.” Anakin reeled off automatically as he followed Palpatine.

“Would you like something to drink?” he offered. Anakin nodded and Palpatine poured a glowing green drink into a glass teacup.

“It’s warm I’m afraid. This is best served cold. Try it and you’ll see.” Anakin took the teacup and sipped. It had a menthol quality and something bitter like dark cocoa.

“If brewed wrong, it will paralyze you within seconds. And if brewed just right, it tastes perfect…” Palpatine trailed off and smiled again. He casted a strange look at the full cup in his hand. 

“And?” Anakin offered.

“And?” Palpatine looked at Anakin quizzically.

“Oh, I thought you had more to say, about the tea.” Anakin looked away embarrassedly.

Palpatine chuckled, “You’re a sharp young man. _And_ , it makes the drinker more apt to tell the truth.” Anakin’s joy at being praised quickly turned into discomfort.

“But that aspect of the tea does not work on humans. So don’t worry, I’m not trying to poison you or coerce you into telling me Jedi secrets.” Palpatine reassured.

Relieved, Anakin took another sip. He decided that he liked the drink. The only ups of playing bodyguard for the chancellor is that Anakin always get to talk to him afterwards. He considered Palpatine a trustworthy confidant, a person whom he considers a friend. Somebody who offered him advice from a different point of view, somebody whose thoughts are not shaped by the Jedi code.

“So, tell me, my boy. What troubles you lately? You look like you haven’t sleep a wink for a week.”

Anakin’s shoulders sag a little, “I don’t sleep well anymore.” At this juncture, he hesitated, then said, “I’ve been having visions in my sleep. They’re- They’re not _nightmares_. They _feel_ different.”

Palpatine’s eyes took on that hidden edge again. The boy had grown so powerful so soon, he thought.

“I’m sure they are different. You’re more attuned to the Force than any living Jedi is it not? That is what I am told. What say Obi-Wan on the matter?”

Anakin threw an irritated glance to his side before meeting Palpatine’s eyes with a hard look. “My master keeps saying that dreams pass in time. He doesn’t really understand but it’s not his fault. I don’t think anybody has these visions except me and master Yoda.”

Palpatine’s grip on his teacup tightened. Obi-Wan you fool, he thought gleefully. As if the boy needed more reason to doubt his master’s loyalty.

“I see. Master Yoda is more helpful then?” he offered silkily.

Anakin frowned, “Not really. Master Yoda told me to not concentrate too much on the dreams. He said the future is always in motion and that what I see is only one of the many outcomes of an event.”

“Seems like a sound notion. If I may, my dear boy, what _do_ you see in your visions?”

Anakin’s eyes adopted a far-away look, “A hooded figure. Shrouded in darkness, with black tendrils like a web spreading all around it. There’s _hunger_ and _coldness_ and- It’s like, an incarnate of the Dark side.”

The hairs on Palpatine’s neck stood on end. _So_ attuned to the Force, the boy is. Anakin’s confession evoked mixed emotions of desire and fear and Palpatine relished in it. Here was the Jedi’s only hope, hopelessly forsaken by them. Typical of the Jedi, to mistake youth with ignorance.

“That does sound worrying. I’m not sure I understand all of the Jedi speak.” Palpatine went quiet and observed Anakin’s distress. “I can’t be of help with your visions but what I do have is good news.” Palpatine waited for Anakin to lift his gaze.

“Good news?” Anakin enquired.

“From a mutual friend of ours, a certain senator from Naboo.” Palpatine’s smirk was nothing short of a leer.

“Padme?” Anakin breathed out.

“Yes.” Palpatine drawled, “Senator Amidala, _Padme_ , is coming to Coruscant in two days.”

Anakin’s cheeks coloured. “Sometimes I dream about her.” Anakin said suddenly and regretted it as soon as he did. Now the image of him looking like an absolute _child_ to Palpatine is complete.

“Now _those_ dreams are much more relaxing I presume.” Palpatine smoothed away Anakin’s worry, “I’m sure she would be delighted to see you.”

Anakin cheered up and suddenly looked deep in thought. Emboldened by Palpatine’s acceptance of his confessions, Anakin firmly said, “I’m in love with her.”

Palpatine was a little surprised by Anakin’s immediate trust in him and seized on the opportunity, “Are the Jedi allowed to Love?” Palpatine had been waiting for this moment. There is nothing more perfect than Love as an instrument of passion to destroy a being. Nothing as fiery and consuming as Love. The perfect intoxicant, the deadliest of poisons.

“ _Attachment_ is forbidden.” Anakin said defensively and said nothing more.

“Can one Love without attachment?” Palpatine countered.

“Obi-Wan says it’s not a question of _can_ or _cannot_ but a question of _will_ or _will not._ ” Anakin subconsciously pulled up his mental shields tighter.

“And you agree with him?” Palpatine said neutrally.

“He _says_ so but I don’t think he agrees with it entirely. I think he does feel love, he does get attached. It’s just human.” Anakin said confidently.

“Obi-Wan? Love? _Who?_ ” Palpatine did not even need to pretend to be scandalized. As if Kenobi, the exemplar of a Jedi could of all the un-Jedi things, _love_.

“He loves me.” Anakin said defiantly. “And I love him. He’s the closest thing I have…after my mother.” Anakin went from slightly angry to sad in a heartbeat.

Palpatine let Anakin simmer and watched the boy swirl the green liquid in his cup. They were both lost in their own thoughts now. Anakin in his emotions, Palpatine in his plan.

This is _perfect_ , Palpatine thought. Palapatine’s mind raced. He had not paid much attention to Kenobi previously. He had only thought to use Kenobi to arouse rebelliousness and jealousy in Anakin, but now it seems, also passion.  Now he could use Kenobi as well.

He could already imagine it. Once the war starts, Anakin and Obi-Wan would undoubtedly become the perfect team at the frontlines. He could envision Skywalker and Kenobi, blue lightsabers flashing in a sea of blaster fire, in perfect tandem. The double-image of heroic justice.

Their relationship would _flourish_. Anakin and Obi-Wan would form an unbroken circle of light and dark.  There would be love and disaster. Passions will grow and enflame. _Especially_ with Padme in the picture. In times of war, amidst, suffering, desperation and yearning, this triad of love will be the becoming of darkness. Palpatine smiled once more, and this time, his eyes were clear. Not a glimmer of sharpness, only still joy.

[ _end flashback_ ]

 

 

 

Palpatine was deep in thought. He could torture Kenobi, _break_ the man and let Anakin find him _just_ before he dies. Then he would do away with Padme as well, along with her unborn child. It would be more than enough to drive Anakin over the edge, into darkness, to _his side._

 _And he will be mine for all eternity._ The thought filled Palpatine with mirth.

_Kenobi lives. For now._

“Master Kenobi, sit down. You’ll catch your death. I’m sure someone will come to rescue us soon. That astromech of yours seem to be on top of things.”

Obi-Wan complied, he more crumpled to the floor than actually sat down and glanced in the direction of Palpatine’s gaze.

R2-D2 beeped in human-like triumph, next to the shield generators. The little astromech was just finished disabling the hangar shields.

Unawares to all the parties present, whilst Obi-Wan battled Dooku, R2-D2 had been quite busy. The little astromech had recorded the happenings up to Palpatine’s entrance onto the scene and transmitted a request for back up to any Republic Starfighter within reach.

Seeing that the danger is over, the astromech scooted over to the control panel on the opposite side of the hangar and triggered an emergency lock down in the entire warship. That would prevent anyone else aboard the ship from coming into the hangar. R2 also set off every single ray shields present on the warship.

Done with the task, the trusty astromech skidded to a halt in front of the trio. The red eye on R2 lit up and a blue projection of Plo Koon in his Starfighter flickered on the floor.

“We have received your message. Chancellor Palpatine has been secured. We’re coming to get you.”

“Good job, R2.” Obi-Wan managed weakly. For an astromech with one too many loose wires, the droid sure is handy in tricky situations.

Not long after, three Republic Starfighters landed smoothly into the hangar. By then, Obi-Wan had succumbed to the void of unconsciousness.

Palpatine watched the two Jedi lying on the floor. Anakin and Obi-Wan laid on their sides, knees bent, facing each other. Their bodies curved inwards, almost forming a circle. Their hands too were almost touching. Anakin still had his cloak on. One Dark, one Light. Kenobi’s burnt flesh stood out red and peeling. Palpatine saw it as a good omen.

 _Dark times lay ahead_.

A secret smiled pulled at Palpatine’s pale lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, there. I wrote this at a blazing pace today. Didn't check for grammar/spellings or anything so my apologies for any of them! Am gonna be a trifle busy with real life stuff this coming week. So I thought I would make sure I get in an update before hand. 
> 
> p.s. The flashback scene was actually a stand alone piece I had written before I started to work on Hypersynchrony. I thought I would figure out a way to work that into this fic, seeing it is my current pet-project (ehe). I hope the scene doesn't come off at an awkward timing. Ah well. Hope anyone reading this enjoys this chapter! Can't wait to write again soon :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chwayatyun, The Rule of Two. Dooku's replacement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually approximately 1/3rd of what I intended to be chapter 7 but I haven't updated so long I feel kinda bad thus the need to put this tiny chapter up just to appease my anxiety hahah. I'll update again tomorrow I think. *__* This fic is turning out to be quite an undertaking for someone like me. I'm thoroughly enjoying working on it though. Hope the effort shows through.

Palpatine played the part of a shaken hostage victim with finesse and conviction. He let himself be coddled, genially accepted expressions of gladness for his safety, and answered generic questions regarding his well-being with practiced grace. To the HoloNews reporters, he expounded the bravery of the Jedi, namely the two that had rescued him, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker. These two names already hailed as Republic heroes, now further sealed into the public’s ideation of heroism and victory. He praised Coruscant’s Defense Fleet magnanimously. He delivered the news of Separatist political and military leader, Count Dooku’s death with exultation. Palpatine was in his element. Power and politics was his turf and he reveled in it.

 _“The end of The Clone Wars is **near** ,” _he had said triumphantly, raising a clenched fist to the crowd present. Coruscant roared and cheered. The people are reassured, _hope_ was in the air.

 _Soon, my people. You will bow to me._ Palpatine thought secretly, eyes glinting.

Palpatine smiled and opened his arms. He welcomed the people’s joy. All is according to plan.

Once the press conference was over, Palpatine retired to his office. He donned the black cloak hanging by his chair and palmed open a secret door on the wall behind his desk. It led into a circular room lit only by the control panels lining its circumference. In the middle of the room was a throne-like chair. The room was cold. An air of darker than black pervaded it.

This was Darth Sidious’s lair. Here, the Force hummed with the Dark side. Here, the Sith’s Grand Plan is conceived and set into motion. Here, the galaxy’s future is shaped into being.

Palpatine sat in his chair and pulled the hood of his cloak over his eyes. He pressed the buttons on the armrest and a hologram of General Grievous flickered before him.

“Lord Sidious,” Grievous intoned, bowing so deep his metal jaw grazed his bent knee. Griveous’s cape draped over his durasteel body, its corner hung over his forearm.

“General Grievous, have you secured Utapau?” Palpatine questioned.

“Yes, my lord. The union is present as we speak.” Grevious’s accented basic crackled as he struggled not to cough.

“Good. Follow the original plan. Move the Separatist leaders to Mustafar” Palpatine spoke slowly, his voice a sinister drawl.

“It will be done, my Lord.” Grievous took half a step back and bowed again.

“The end of the war is near, General.”               

“But the loss of Count Dooku?” Grievous began.

“His death was a necessary loss.” Palpatine stated simply. His lord’s coldness would have sent a shiver down Grievous spine if he possessed an organic body.

“You will come forth as the new Separatist leader.”

“Yes, my lord.” Grievous felt extremely honoured. He bowed once more at the towering flickering blue hologram.

 “The next move, is to find me a new apprentice.”

“Skywalker, my lord?” Grevious lifted his head curiously.

“No, not yet. The Zabrak. Unfreeze him.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Grievous halted before he bowed again. The slit pupils of his yellow eyes had widened a little.

Palpatine nodded and cut off the holo-comm. He brooded over the plans for his former and now once more his apprentice. He had his hands in a steeple before him, electricity crackling over the pale flesh.

 _Maul and Kenobi._ Palpatine thought with mirth. _Old friends._

 

 

Grievous was a little stunned. He had forgotten about the Zabrak.

“What Zabrak?” Nute Gunray suddenly asked, interrupting Grievous’s train of thought.

“None of your business.” Grievous grated harshly and turned on his heels, waving his magna guards to stay with the Separatist Union members. He bore a great hatred for the Neimoidian Viceroy who thought him a mindless droid. Given the chance he would dismember the cowardly worm with utmost pleasure.

Grievous went to his shuttle and flew out of the Utapauan sinkhole dwelling back to the surface where the _Invisible Hand_ was. He made for the holding cells and brought along with him several magna guards.

He went inside the cell and paused in front of the carbonite block.

 _So serene,_ Grievous thought. His eyes roved over the sleep-like features of the frozen Zabrak. He did not expect the Zabrak would be of any use at all, he did not even know the horned beast’s name. Yet he knew the exact components of the Zabrak’s genetic material, the density of his bones, the speed of his resting heartbeat, the amount of midichlorians inhabiting his cells, all the physiological workings of the severed body. Grievous’s musings were cut off with a coughing fit after which he turned on the repulsorlift projectors on the sides of the carbonite block.

“Bring it to the infirmary.”

Grievous was well-prepared for this operation. He had tinkered with the idea since the moment his Lord Sidious entrusted him with the precious cargo. He saw the Zabrak’s primitive metal legs and was intrigued. He was told some Dathomiri witch had engineered the crude prosthesis. Grievous had asked to collect a blood sample from the Zabrak and developed a serum that could regrow the creature’s legs with nanotechnology Grievous himself had developed. It was a dream of Grievous to regain his organic body, but that was an impossibility. His body was broken beyond repair.

 _Jedi doing_. A low growl rumbled in Grievous’s throat, hate flaring in him.

But the creature, unlike him, was not beyond hope.

“Prepare the tranquilizers.” He instructed between coughs to the medical droids and stepped back to watch.  

“Affirmative.” Two medical droids went to either side of the carbonite block, sharp syringes poised next to the neck where the carotid arteries were.

“Begin the thaw.”

Once the carbonite thawing element was activated, and the Zabrak started to slump out of the carbonite case, the droids immediately plunged the syringes in.

“Place him onto the operating table.” Grievous gestured to the metal slab nearby and went to the control panels next to it. He checked the creature’s vital signs and deemed him ready for the surgery.

“Remove the metal prosthesis.” Grievous instructed and the medical droids set about their work quickly. When the Zabrak’s metal legs finally came off, Grievous removed it from the operating table.

“Stabilize the subject.” Grievous coughed and wheezed. He placed a vial of syringe into the robotic arm attached to the control panels next to the operating table. The vial contained a viscous silver liquid, which was in fact made up of billions of nanodroids.

“Initiate administration of the Nanoserum.”

It was a simple operation, requiring only a systemic infusion of the serum into the bloodstream. All the hard work was in the research that went behind its development. The serum had been painstakingly tailor-made for this Zabrak.

 _My lord will be pleased._ He thought.

Grievous watched the creature with great interest. The effect was immediate. The Zabrak’s yellowed horns were quickly turning silver, then the body started to convulse. Grevious’s eyes traced the Zabrak’s red skin, the black markings down its abdomen. Near the margins where the torso ended, silver bones sprouted, muscle tissue, webs of nerves and blood vessels grew like vines. The Zabrak’s legs took form and finally, hard silvered skin of tiny hexagonal scales encased the semi-organic prosthesis.

Grievous glanced at the Zabrak’s vitals on the control panel screens with narrowed eyes. All seemed normal. He was growing anxious, impatient to see the creature rouse and move.

“Reverse the tranquilizers.” Grievous leaned close to the Zabrak, he reached a clawed metal finger to touch one of its horns, then traced the entire length of the legs.  

 _Durasteel flesh, blood and bones. My creation._ Grievous felt strange joy bubbling through his constant rage.

Grievous lifted his head when the Zabrak stirred, its yellow-red eyes opening. It suddenly occurred to Grievous that he could be dangerous thus quickly activated the restraints, metal bands sprung out and held the Zabrak down onto the operating table. It only served to further awaken him, after which he started to struggle, lips curling to reveal gleaming silver teeth. Grievous thrilled at the sight.

“Creature, what is your name?” Grievous met the Zabrak’s wild eyes, distrust and torment plain in them. Silver flecks started to appear in the yellow-red irises, Grievous leaned in for a closer look, entranced.

“ _Maul.”_ He growled. “ _Darth_ Maul.”

“Darth Maul, you will meet your Master soon.”

Grievous lifted his cape to reveal Maul’s lightsaber amongst his private collection of slain Jedi’s. Maul craned his neck to see Grievous placing his lightsaber near his feet atop a set of folded black tunics he recognized as the ones he used to wear whilst serving his Master. He stepped back and instructed for Maul to be tranquilized.

Maul felt his strength ebbing away, his mind clouding. He felt Grievous’s reptilian eyes watching him as darkness claimed him again.

Grievous left. He had much to do now. First, to report to Lord Sidious of Maul’s excellent condition. Second, to proceed with the plan to move the Separatist Union to Mustafar. Third, to inform the galaxy of his new status as Separatist leader.

 _War and Order_. That was Grievous’s mantra. 

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In The Room of a Thousand Fountains, Obi-Wan yields.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little note on the asterisk you'll come across. It refers to a fic titled Take My Waking Slow by Panharmonium (Here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/2685245/chapters/6007223 ) . I read it over a month ago and I just love it so much I asked permission to reference it in my own work. So now it's like an AU-canon for my fic haha.

Anakin Skywalker awakened and found himself _comfortable_. For once he was not roused from sleep only to find himself in the throes of a nightmare. Being comatose has its perks, he decided. He had not felt this well-rested in a long while.

Anakin turned to his side and opened his eyes, almost expecting to see Padme’s softly breathing figure next to him. Rather, he saw an empty medic bed, white sheets mussed, blanket on the floor. On the bedside table were a pair of arm guards. A circular yellow emblem outlined in two red semi-circles emblazoned on the battered plastoid.

 _Obi-Wan._ His mind sharpened to sobriety.

Anakin sat up. He recognized the Jedi Temple infirmary at once. The rehabilitation ward to be exact. He had been here enough times. Anakin probed their Force bond. Obi-Wan’s shields were firmly up. Anakin waited and detected spikes of pain seeping through.

“Hm.” Anakin pressed his lips together. He knew how Obi-Wan goes to great lengths to avoid being bed bound in the infirmary. Obi-Wan was probably holed away somewhere treating his own wounds.

After checking that he had his lightsaber on his utility belt, Anakin downed the flask of nutri-water next to his bed and motioned to leave the room. On second thought, Anakin turned on his heel and opened the bedside locker, grabbing the med kit inside. He doubted Obi-Wan bothered with his.

               Anakin’s footfalls echoed in the silence of the night. He walked along the softly lit hallways of The Jedi Temple, deserted at this hour except for himself. A lone black-clad figure, cloak billowing with every brisk step. The soaring ceiling and wide columns had always made him feel small. Anakin remembers how Obi-Wan used to lead him down these very hallways at night for long walks when he was nine and could not sleep, missing his mother. They always ended up in The Map Room where they would name the planets and stars until Anakin’s eyes felt heavy.* It seemed like several lifetimes ago. But after all, it was. War had beaten Anakin Skywalker bloody, and inside, some things he never felt again.

               _I bet he’s by the waterfall._ Anakin thought.

              

 

               Obi-Wan stripped out of his singed tabards and tunic, groaning as he did so. His _entire_ body was _sore_.

 _Terrific_. He thought sarcastically, gritting his teeth.

The previously beige garments resembled nothing but dirty torn up rags, which they were, given the amount of abuse they have been subjected to. Obi-Wan folded them and set them on the grassy ground. He unhooked his lightsaber from his utility belt and set it on top of the neat pile. He then leaned against a large rock by the pool of water to take off his boots and rolled his trousers up to the bottom of his knees.

Obi-Wan looked around and extended himself in the Force, sensing no other soul save his. Assured of his privacy, he stepped into the water. He carefully dipped his bandaged right arm, and _Force_ it stung but Obi-Wan ignored it. He walked into the deep until the water swallowed him whole. Relaxing into the pool’s balmy embrace, Obi-Wan let himself float on his back. Slowly, the pain in his arm subdued to a more bearable intensity.

_Stars, this feels good._

The sound of the rushing waterfall drowned Obi-Wan’s thoughts. For a moment, the war, the galaxy did not matter. For a moment, Obi-Wan was just a man. Not a soldier, not a peacekeeper. Just a man.

Obi-Wan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, reaching for the Force. He managed not to feel the gnawing feeling inside him for a while but it was inevitable. He missed Anakin. He _ached_ for Anakin.

 _Easy now._ Obi-Wan warned himself.

Unwilling to succumb to calling for Anakin, for what would that achieve really? Obi-Wan went over his mental shields, firmly sealing any gaps he found.

 _It’s better this way_. He thought ruefully.

 

Anakin walked into the Room of a Thousand Fountains and the sight had him a little awestruck. Since the war started, Anakin could count the number of times he had the time to visit this place. The entire section of the Jedi Temple was a greenhouse. The air was more humid in here, more _alive._ It was quiet without being oppressing, and dark without being menacing. The sound of waterfalls permeated the night and the high glass ceilings let distant lights from the city above inside. It was all luscious greenery, smooth grass and exotic flowers.  Deep pools like precious gems inlaid in the verdurous surrounding. It felt like another world.

Anakin made his way to a small waterfall pool in a secluded corner he knew Obi-Wan was partial to. Then he saw, Obi-Wan floating on his back, eyes closed. Anakin observed Obi-Wan’s languid peace for a while. It occurred to him that he did not know what Obi-Wan was thinking. Obi-Wan’s shielding were oddly impeccable, as if he deliberately did not want Anakin intruding.

 _Two can play this game, Obi-Wan._ Anakin thought and pulled his own shields up, carefully making himself invisible in the Force. He then walked soundlessly towards the pool, like stalking a prey.

Before Anakin reached the pool, Obi-Wan waded to the shallows back to the rock where he had set his things. Anakin paused in his tracks, not wanting to be discovered. Obi-Wan wrung his wet trousers and went to sit on the dry rock near the edge of the pool, casting his gaze into its depths. He looked lost in thought. Framed in the sensuous green and velvet shadows, Obi-Wan looked strangely beatific and desolate. Lonely as ever.

Anakin’s fingers tightened, a nameless feeling rising in his chest.

 

 

Obi-Wan looked at his reflection in the water. Sometimes it was _hard_ being alone. He wondered how his peers manage, but he suspects all Jedi felt the same. Jedi were vessels of Peace, they were meant to be empty. It had become rare but in this instance, Obi-Wan found himself missing Qui-Gon and naturally, the next thing he thought of was Anakin.

 _Train him_. Qui-Gon had said with his dying breath.

Before further thoughts weighed on him, Obi-Wan saw Anakin’s reflection appearing next to his. He shook his head, thinking it a trick of his own mind. He started when a hand rested on his bare shoulder. Obi-Wan turned too fast and started to fall backwards but Anakin caught him by his arm. They stayed like that for a while, motionless, neither saying anything.

 _Here he is,_ Obi-Wan thought.

Anakin seemed to consider him, eyes glinting in the dark.

 

 _There you are_ , Anakin thought.

He considered Obi-Wan. Blue eyes wide, open and unguarded in his surprise. Obi-Wan’s longish wet hair was slicked back, water droplets trickled down his jaw onto his chest.

Anakin leaned in closer, testing Obi-Wan.

 _I could kiss him_. Anakin thought with dare, eyes fixing on Obi-Wan’s slack mouth. He wasted no thought on the suddenness of his desire but he paused anyway, meeting Obi-Wan’s gaze.

 

Obi-Wan was suddenly painfully aware of his state of semi undress. Anakin was dangerously close and Obi-Wan felt himself drowning in blue.

Anakin’s intentions were clear and yet here he was, waiting for Obi-Wan’s acquiesce. It was an uncharacteristic patience for someone whose recklessness was galaxy renowned. It spoke of gentleness, of yearning for Obi-Wan’s consent for affection. Obi-Wan was grateful for it.

 

Something shifted in Obi-Wan’s eyes and then without warning, Obi-Wan’s hands fastened to the sides of his head and pressed their foreheads together. Anakin almost tipped over, his grip on Obi-Wan’s arm tightened and his other hand twined around Obi-Wan’s waist, pulling them both upright, away from the water’s edge. All the while not breaking the contact between their foreheads.

 _You do love me_ , he thought. Joy flooded Anakin, his heart racing a little. He waited for Obi-Wan to open his eyes, pressing himself against Obi-Wan’s shields.

 

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan whispered not meeting Anakin’s gaze and pulled away. He kept his shielding tight, too afraid to let Anakin in.

Anakin let Obi-Wan pull away from him, his hands falling to his sides, his joy not dampened. He will take what Obi-Wan will give. It was enough. He let Obi-Wan know with a friendly surge against Obi-Wan’s shielding before relenting. Their bond fell to a companionable silence.

“You’re bleeding.” Anakin stated simply. Obi-Wan followed his gaze. Crimson seeped through the wet bandages on Obi-Wan’s right arm.

“Oh.” Obi-Wan observed, the pain registering.

“Sit down, let’s get that changed.” Anakin leaned over Obi-Wan to fetch the med kit he had on the rock. Obi-Wan complied and lowered himself to the ground to sit against the rock.

“How did you know I would be here?” Obi-Wan questioned as Anakin busied himself with the med kit, laying out the necessary paraphernalia on the grass.

“I just do.” Anakin replied smugly and lifted his head, smirking.

“I see.” Obi-Wan replied levelly.

Anakin carefully unwrapped the stained bandages. Obi-Wan clenched his jaw and held himself from wincing. He watched Anakin’s focus as Anakin tended to him.

“Why are you smiling…” Anakin said distractedly, focusing on his task. Obi-Wan’s skin had improved a little thanks to the bacta but it was far from being healed.

“Oh nothing. I just like you like this. All _patient_.” Obi-Wan offered, still grinning.

“Hm. I like you like this too.” Anakin said in a low voice, throwing a dark gaze through his eyelashes. Obi-Wan swallowed and looked at his wounded arm instead.

 _Serves you right_. Anakin chuckled. Obi-Wan ignored him.

“I think it’s better if I just heal you. It’s faster than bacta.”

“Whatever you think is best.” Obi-Wan peered at his peeling skin. It was awfully painful. Anakin took Obi-Wan’s wounded arm by the elbow with his durasteel hand and used his left to heal. The feel of the glove whispering over his skin made Obi-Wan shiver.

When it was done, Anakin inspected his job with pride. “I’m a _kriffing_ good healer.” He complemented himself.

“Yes, you are. Thank you.” Obi-Wan said examining his healed arm.

Anakin stood up and shrugged off his cloak then draped it over Obi-Wan. He knelt down in front of Obi-Wan and pulled it closer around Obi-Wan’s figure. He wanted to crush the man close, make him look less lonely.

Anakin had rested his hands on Obi-Wan’s shoulders. Obi-Wan could not tell what Anakin was thinking but he knew he saw _love_ in those blue eyes. It warmed him.

“I’m tired. We should just stay here tonight.” Anakin said then laid down on the grass, his head near Obi-Wan’s side. Obi-Wan leaned back against the rock, tilting his head back.

“It’s more comfortable down here.” Anakin tugged at the cloak’s sleeve. Obi-Wan considered the invitation and decided that he most certainly needed to lie down. He still had various aches in his body even after the water’s healing embrace. So he moved to lie down, extremely aware of Anakin’s nearness.

“Hm. It is nice.” Obi-Wan conceded, relaxing. Anakin peered at Obi-Wan’s profile and decided Obi-Wan looked a lot less lonely.

“Obi-Wan.” Anakin began and waited for Obi-Wan to look at him.

“Yes?” Obi-Wan did not turn, he just glanced at Anakin.

“You know I’ll always be here for you right?”

“Yes, of course.” Obi-Wan felt his chest tightened.

Satisfied with the reply, Anakin folded his arms behind his head.

Obi-Wan curled to his side, his back to Anakin. Anakin looked straight up into the sky through the ceiling. The grass was soft, the air pleasantly cool and perfumed by the scent of the night-blooming flowers. The waterfall sounded like a lullaby. For a moment, all was right and perfect in the galaxy.

The clouds above moved with the wind to reveal the moon. Anakin’s eyes were bright in the dark. He saw Padme in the milky orb. He contemplated his love for his wife, Obi-Wan’s newfound acceptance of his affections and felt at ease. For once, sleep came easy and swiftly.

Obi-Wan though wrestled with his mind for a while.

 _Attachment._ His mind whispered. But Obi-Wan was prepared this time. It is not attachment as long as I can still let him go, he reasoned. As long as he still did his duty, his inordinate feeling for Anakin could be allowed.

 _Within reason_. His mind said calmly. _Within reason, he could allow this._

Obi-Wan thought of Qui-Gon last before he drifted to sleep.

 _Qui-Gon would approve_. _Perhaps..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So HI AGAIN. I wrote half of this in the car while driving my mom around to run errands. It's probably rife with grammar errors and unfiltered ideas which I personally think could've been written better if I took the time going about this particular scene. Anyway, there ya go. The slash is obvious now isn't it?


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan and Anakin gets invited to a ball.

Obi-Wan was dreaming. A soft touch to the arch of his foot dispelled his sleep. He sat up quickly, still disoriented, and found himself facing an almost smiling Anakin.

               “You.” Obi-Wan said, for no reason. Anakin had removed his hand but the memory of the brief touch lingered. The feel of Anakin’s gloved hand softly tracing upward from the arch of his foot to his toes… It seared in Obi-Wan’s mind.

               Anakin’s curious expression changed to a quizzical look. Obi-Wan blinked.

               _I’m dreaming._ Obi-Wan thought.

               “Master, you alright?” Anakin asked, yet looking unconcerned. Blue eyes unperturbed.

               Obi-Wan looked down to his bare torso and pulled the cloak closer around him.

 _This is not my cloak._ Obi-Wan thought and it came to him that they had spent the night by the waterfall.

               “What _time_ is it?” said Obi-Wan, blinking rapidly. Anakin wanted to laugh but did not.

               “Six.” Anakin replied.

               “a.m. or p.m.? _”_

               “p.m.”

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” Obi-Was said aghast.

               “I woke you as soon as _I_ woke up. After the Council commed me.” Anakin said defensively. Obi-Wan realized he left his hand guard with his comm device still on it in the rehab ward.

               “What did the council want?”

               “You’re gonna _love_ this.” Anakin radiated sarcasm. Obi-Wan immediately doubted he would ‘love’ whatever ‘this’ was. “We’ve been asked to attend a ball commemorating the chancellor’s safe return. And to gloat over Dooku being dead.”

“Did they specify if it’s compulsory?” Obi-Wan asked, ignoring the comment about Dooku.

“Oh, very much so.”

“When is it?”

“In about thirty minutes.” Anakin said and heaved himself to his feet and started to stretch. Obi-Wan could almost groan out loud. A roomful of politicians...he would prefer a nest of Gundarks anytime.

“ _And_ the dress code’s black.” Anakin snatched up Obi-Wan’s lightsaber and tunics and threw them into Obi-Wan’s lap.

“That’s just ridiculous. I don’t have anything black.” Obi-Wan looked up at his partner.

“You can borrow mine.” Anakin gestured at himself, clad in black as he customarily was. He then proceeded to grab Obi-Wan’s boots and placed them at Obi-Wan’s feet. “Come on. We’ll be late. Let’s just go to my place. You need a haircut anyway.”

Obi-Wan ran his fingers through his now longish hair and rubbed his untrimmed beard. “I suppose.” He said grudgingly and started to put his boots on.

A little known thing about Obi-Wan Kenobi: Since Anakin Skywalker became his apprentice, he had his hair cut by a droid nine year old Anakin had built for the express purpose of cutting his and his master’s hair. After Anakin became a knight and had his own living quarters, Obi-Wan Kenobi _still_ had his hair cut at Anakin’s because he could not work the ‘useful but _troublesome’_ droid on his own.

 

Obi-Wan sat on Anakin’s bed while Anakin used the fresher. He surveyed the mess of a room and wondered what the assembly of junk metal on the workbench would end up as. A thin layer of dust had settled on every inch of the room. Even on the sheets, Obi-Wan noted, rubbing his fingers together.

“Take the cloak off, I’m washing that.” Anakin said as he stepped out of the fresher. He had showered and dressed quickly in a fresh set of tunics. Then Obi-Wan saw that Anakin held a pair of scissors and a comb, a towel slung over his shoulder.

“Is the droid broken?” Obi-Wan asked warily and handed Anakin his cloak.

“Nah. We need to hurry, I’ll do a quicker _and_ better job.” Anakin grinned and kicked a crate over to the edge of the bed where Obi-Wan sat.

Obi-Wan looked unconvinced but moved to sit on the crate and Anakin moved to stand behind him.

Anakin worked at inhuman speed with his durasteel hand, combing and trimming. Once done Anakin suddenly hooked his fingers beneath Obi-Wan’s chin, tipping Obi-Wan’s face up. “I could do your beard too.” He mused.

Anakin’s thumb traced the line of Obi-Wan’s jaw and Obi-Wan bit back a swear word.

 _Sith hells._  

Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s adams apple bob as the older man swallowed. His lop-sided grin threatened to grew wider.

“Not the beard.” Obi-Wan swatted Anakin’s hand away and stood. He grabbed the towel off Anakin’s shoulder and made for the fresher.

“I’ve hung your tunics on the door by the way.” Anakin yelled as the fresher door closed.

 _That’s fun._ Anakin thought and chuckled. He then started to rummage through the crates stacked near the walls.

 

 

 _Everything smells of him_. Obi-Wan thought as he dressed in Anakin’s tunics in the fresher.

“How come these actually fit me?” Obi-Wan asked, gesturing at himself as he toweled his damp hair and combed it.

“Oh those are from a few years back.” Anakin was busy tinkering with something on his work bench.

Obi-Wan saw that a pair of plastoid arm guards and boots were laid on the bed. He went over and examined them. They were identical to the standard armour he wore but these were painted dark durasteel gray. The left arm guard had the Open Circle emblem engraved into it rather than stenciled on like Obi-Wan’s usually were.             

“Are these for me?” said Obi-Wan.

“Yeah. Those are actually for your birthday last year but I’ve forgotten why I didn’t give them to you. We were probably on a mission or something.”

Obi-Wan put the armour on, and Anakin went over to him. Anakin took Obi-Wan’s right arm and installed a comm device into the comm slot, saying “I’ve deactivated the old one. This one’s all set.” Anakin saw that Obi-Wan had trimmed his beard and laughed a little.

“What?” Obi-Wan asked. “I look ridiculous.”

“Black rather suits you.” Anakin looked Obi-Wan over. Obi-Wan’s ginger hair set off redder against the black. He smoothed Obi-Wan’s collar and adjusted the leather tabards.

“I look like a _Sith lord_.” Said Obi-Wan, miffed. He studiously avoided meeting Anakin’s eyes.

“Hey, those are my clothes. They make you look like a badass Jedi. Besides, someone’s gotta be the poster boy, Obi-Wan.” Anakin grinned devilishly. Obi-Wan grimaced. Anakin had reeled off his own words at him.

 “Don’t start. Let’s just go.” Obi-Wan stepped away from Anakin and exited the quarters.

“ _I’m_ driving.” Anakin yelled and hurried after Obi-Wan.

“Oh wonderful.” Obi-Wan grumbled.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll get to see some old friends.” Anakin said. Obi-Wan looked at Anakin from the corner of his eyes. Anakin looked positively happy.

 _I know that look._ Obi-Wan thought.

 _Padme._ Both Anakin and Obi-Wan thought respectively.

 _That’ll distract him_. Obi-Wan thought, relieved. Anakin resumed studying him as they walked in the hallway.

 _Mine, mine, mine._ Anakin chanted in his mind. If things went his way tonight, he would kiss both his wife and former master before the ball ends.

Maybe it was the way Anakin looked like he was going eat Obi-Wan alive, maybe it was the roomful of politicians he was about to be faced with, or maybe, it was because he was stepping into a speeder with Anakin at the wheel. Between those three things, a sense of trepidation descended on Obi-Wan.

 _Fun._ He thought sarcastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pointless filler chapter. I'm on some pain meds so...yeah. I just wanted to make my AU dreams come true and dress Obi-Wan in Anakin's clothes lol. I'll get back on track in the next chapter. Wherein Padme finally comes into the picture and a certain Sith Lord sets his unsavory plans into action. Yeaaaa.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Ball. In three words: Kissing, Dancing & Angst.

               “For the thousandth time Anakin, _spinning_ is _not_ flying.” Obi-Wan gritted out and stopped short of slamming the speeder’s door. He smoothed his hair down and glared at Anakin.

               “We were late.” Anakin shrugged, completely unapologetic.

               “We could have _died_.” Obi-Wan said in a serious tone as they walked up a wide cream marble staircase.

               “I’d be doing you a favour then.” Anakin replied easily. Obi-Wan flashed another angry look at Anakin. Anakin’s grin did not falter.

               Music played on stringed instruments and a steady humming of chatter could be heard from outside the Grand Ballroom. The curbs of the wide boulevard leading up to the Imperial Palace was lined with parked speeders. The Jedi had reserved parking spaces right near the entrance, which was handy for the two tardy Jedi Generals.

               “Just relax.” Anakin patted Obi-Wan on the back. Obi-Wan made no reply and simply look chagrined.

               “Names?” A protocol droid holding a datapad by the door enquired.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi.”      

“Anakin Skywalker.”

               “Welcome, Generals. Please wait for your names to be announced before you walk down the stairs into the Ballroom. Enjoy your evening.” The droid said and bowed them inside.

               “I have a bad feeling about this.” Obi-Wan muttered.

               “It’ll be-”

               “ _Fun._ Oh, yes. Absolutely.” Obi-Wan finished Anakin’s sentence. Anakin held himself from laughing. The last time he saw Obi-Wan this tense was when he saved Obi-Wan after he fell in a nest of Gundarks.

               They walked the short distance to the actual entrance of the Grand Ballroom, where another protocol droid stood. “Jedi Generals of the Open Circle Fleet, Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker.”  The droid’s voice rang loud and clear, grabbing the guests’ attention.

When Anakin and Obi-Wan appeared at the top of the staircase, the entire room, no doubt filled with the elite and powerful, roared with cheering and clapping. Obi-Wan bowed a little and smiled a charming smile, blue eyes tight. The weight of his lightsaber against his hip felt perversely comforting. Anakin too, bowed his head to the crowd and smiled his most winning smile. Not even halfway down the stairs he was already scanning the crowd for his Padme.

               Skywalker. Kenobi. Those were the names the crowd chanted as they descended the stairs.  Together, they were the pride of Jedi Order. Face of The Clone Wars. _Heroes_ of the Republic.

               When they reached the bottom of the stairs, Palpatine was there to greet them. The chancellor took their hands in turn, grasping hard and said, “Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Generals. I’m afraid you two missed my thank you speech but I assure you, you two have my _deepest_ of gratitudes for saving my life. And The Republic’s for saving Coruscant. Please, enjoy the ball. Tonight, is a night of celebration!”

               The guests clapped in approval at Palpatine’s words then parted for him to retire to a long table on a raised platform at the end of the hall. After Palpatine left, a chorus of compliments from the crowd greeted the two Jedi and they responded in kind as much as they could. It was awhile before the crowd allowed the Jedi some space. Even then it was when an announcement of food being served was made and the music restarted. The extravagantly dressed guests milled towards the center of the room to dance. The music was in waltz time. Couples floated about in pairs, food and drinks handed about by droids. Merry making was in order.

               Obi-Wan had just extracted himself from the endless strangers congratulating him when he felt Anakin _glow_ in the Force. Anakin’s intense delight seeped through Obi-Wan’s flimsy shielding. He had been so nervous he relaxed his shields to feed off of Anakin’s confidence over their bond. Obi-Wan knew, it could only be one thing, for Anakin to react this way in the Force. One _woman_.

               “Generals.” Senator Padme Amidala greeted both Anakin and Obi-Wan.

               Padme was a vision in her black dress. A divine inspiration of peerless grace and beauty. The halter neck was a structured bejeweled construction that winked madly under the lights. The precious stones making up the neckpiece were of a deep crimson, almost black in colour. If she were to turn, the neckpiece extended into layers of chains, like necklaces that latticed her back right down to her petite waist. Her bare shoulders was dusted in light glittery powder, giving the impression her skin were that of white pearls and ivory. Black velvet gloves elegantly encased her hands to her elbows. The shimmery dress flowed freely from under her bust. It hid her slender figure and rippled with every little movement. Padme’s long dark tresses were styled into two buns on either side of her head. Her heart shaped face was lit by a smile and she was faintly blushing. Her brown eyes both soft and afire, as if she was hiding deeper passions. As if she could cry tears. Whatever it was, Padme was a stirring image harbouring a stirring emotion.

               “I am glad to see you two alive.” Said Padme, her eyes fixing on Anakin.

               Anakin was quiet. He had forgotten to breathe. His world was in slow-motion. The music soared with his heartbeat.

               Obi-Wan felt all that Anakin felt. Their bond was awash with rapture. There were no words spoken through their bond, only _feelings._ Pure, bright, and deep. Obi-Wan blinked, his next breath came a little unsteady. _This is Love_ , his heart told him.

               Obi-Wan gathered himself and spoke. “It’s good to see you, Padme.” Obi-Wan threw his gaze on the marble floor and caught his own reflection on the shiny frescoed surface. He saw himself looking.. _.afraid_. Obi-Wan schooled his expression into a blank mask. His hand trembled when he took Padme’s gloved hand and kissed it. “You look exquisite.” Obi-Wan did not lift his eyes.

               Anakin was just openly staring, still wordless.

               “Likewise, Obi-Wan. Thank you.” Padme smiled, her gaze not once leaving Anakin.

 

               Obi-Wan could not function with the emotions flooding him. It felt _wondrous_. Force knows it did but all he knew was that he needed to leave. Things were astir in his own mind, things long left unfelt, things he could not put a name to. It was all coming back to him and he was in no place for such a spectacle. Obi-Wan’s eyes were glassy as he blinked again and he slammed his shields up. The rushing happiness replaced with _absence_ stole his breath.

               “Obi-Wan?” Padme finally looked away from her husband.

               “Yes. I, er, excuse me. My throat’s gone dry. I think I’m in need of a refreshment. I’ll uh, catch up with you two later _._ ”

               “Oh…see you soon.” Padme said.

               Obi-Wan quieting their bond jolted Anakin. He grasped Obi-Wan’s wrist as the man turned. Obi-Wan drew the length of his arm and stopped. He did not struggle, he simply stared, looking uncertain. Anakin swiftly leaned down to brush his forehead to Obi-Wan’s. It was a glancing touch, barely. But the brevity did not lessen its meaning. Anakin’s eyes held the same look the night before by the waterfall. The same passion.

               “I’ll see you later?” Anakin held fast onto Obi-Wan.

               Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. They were in public, with _Padme_. That Anakin would even care to reassure him at all was unthinkable. Not trusting his voice, Obi-Wan just nodded.

               Satisfied with what he saw in Obi-Wan’s steely blues, Anakin let go. Obi-Wan walked away the moment he relaxed his grip, his fingers had not even left Obi-Wan’s wrist. It stung a little but it was enough. It had to be. He watched Obi-Wan’s black-clad figure retreating into the crowd, until he could not see him anymore. Slowly, almost regretfully, Anakin erected his own shields, quieting their bond further. With that he tucked Obi-Wan into a corner of his heart.

               Then Anakin turned to face his wife. Padme looked at him questioningly.

                “Padme.” Anakin breathed and took Padme by her hand, whisking her away from the crowd. They hid behind a gargantuan pillar next to the wide staircase Anakin and Obi-Wan came down from.

               “Ani, I’ve missed you.” Tears welled in Padme’s eyes. Anakin gathered her in his strong arms. It had been so long, too long, since she had been embraced by her husband. The lovers clutched at each other, the pain of yearning reached its peak and subsided until all was ecstatic.

               Anakin lowered his mouth to Padme’s and the galaxy ceased to matter.

 _This is where we belong_. Their hearts spoke.

               Padme felt again Anakin’s passion for her and lets his kiss consume her. She wanted to live in this moment forever if she could. They kiss in a practiced dance, a secret language lovers develop over time spent exploring the beloved, reacquainting with the familiar moulds of the other’s lips. It was a sweetness tasted by their very souls. It felt like coming home.

               “Ani, not here.” Padme said breathlessly, breaking the kiss.

               “Yes, here.”

               “Someone might see.”

               “Let them.” Anakin said in a challenging tone. He was beyond caring. He deserved this happiness. The world can be their spectators for all he cared. He swooped down to taste Padme’s lips upon his once more.

               “Don’t say that.” Padme turned her head, evading Anakin.

               Anakin cradled Padme’s face in his hands. “Are you alright? You’re trembling…”

               “I have something important to tell you.” Padme began then seemed to grasp around for the correct words.

               “What is it?” Anakin grew concerned, searching his love’s eyes.

               Padme glanced around then whispered, “Ani, I’m pregnant.”

               The news rocked Anakin. It was as if the ground beneath his feet gave and he was suspended in the vastness of space, the vastness of _unknown_. For the second time tonight, Anakin forgotten what it was like to breathe.

               “That’s–” Anakin paused, at a loss for words. “That’s _wonderful_.” He stuttered then broke into a wide smile.

               Padme was not reassured by the way her husband reacted. He looked downright petrified. But then again, so was she. “Ani, what are we going to do?”

               “We’re not going to worry about anything right now, alright. This is a happy moment.” Anakin paused and stared into Padme’s eyes until he saw a levity return to them. “The happiest moment of my life.” Anakin beamed and lifted Padme, spinning her around and held her close.

 _The happiest…_ Padme thought trustingly and they embraced each other one more time.

 

 

               Obi-Wan emptied the glass in a single motion. The liquid burned his throat and he exhaled audibly. He then leaned against the bar top and fingered his lightsaber. He promised himself he was only going to have the one drink. It was not even alcohol. It was more of a painkiller than a proper drink. A sweet edible bacta-blend of sorts used for heartburn more than anything else. Force forbid he should get a stiff drink and develop a buzz right now.

               “Ah, if it isn’t the _Sith Slayer._ ” A sharp faced man with jet black hair and a curling moustache drawled. He was dressed in a black suit and shirt. Obi-Wan zeroed in on the pen peeking out of his suit pocket. A journalist.

               “You do not want to speak to me.” Obi-Wan backed his words with the Force and waved his hand.

               “You Jedi are all the same. So, _aloof._ That hokey magic of yours don’t work on me.” The man smiled wryly.

               “Yes, well…” Obi-Wan moved to leave but the man intercepted him.

               “Just one line and I won’t hound you for the rest of the night. Come on, Sith slayer. It’ll be harmless.” The moniker made Obi-Wan’s hand, hanging next to his lightsaber twitch.

               Obi-Wan leaned close to the man, his brows drawing together and said in a low voice, “Sith lords, are my specialty. Not pesky journalists. Good night.” He then walked away, leaving the journalist looking distinctly ruffled. He was in no mood or mind-frame for any sort of civilized conversation.

               Obi-Wan Kenobi marveled at his own state. He knew his world had been upended the moment Anakin entered his life all those years ago but lately it seemed as if the Force had a will of its own and its will, it seems, was to shatter any semblance of _balance_ he currently had. Well the _illusion_ of balance anyway. Obi-Wan knew, he was no more level-headed or calmer than Anakin. He never was. He was just better at hiding it.

               Obi-Wan pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. All he saw in his mind was Anakin and Padme, happy together. Anakin’s overwhelming joy. All kinds of crude notions ran unfiltered in his mind. Thoughts of Anakin leaving the Jedi Order to be with Padme…

               _Leaving me_. Pain lanced at Obi-Wan’s heart.

               _What then?_ He wondered and the answer descended upon him. If Anakin were to turn from being a Jedi, Obi-Wan knew, it would break him.

               Because to him, Anakin meant more than- _More than what?_

 _More than the Jedi._ Obi-Wan cut the horrifying thought short. If this was not the definition of attachment, he did not know what was.

 _A broken heart will not kill you._ He thought with finality. It would break him, yes but he was still Jedi. He would stay a Jedi. Anakin meant the world to him but he would let him go. He had to. If it ever came to pass, Force forbid it, _I will let him go._

               A long buried sadness resurfaced in Obi-Wan. He was no stranger to loss. Grief had seeped into his marrows long ago. They weigh on his bones. It was a weight he knew he could carry. Each new loss was just another ache in his worn body. Losing Anakin would be no different.

               Obi-Wan clung to the lie.

 _You’re a Jedi._ He cursed himself. How could he let himself spiral into such a morbid mindset.  Where was his resilience? This was not the way of the Jedi. What made him like this?

 _Jabiim_. His mind reminded him cruelly. A flurry of sickening memories clawed at Obi-Wan. Ventress had taught Obi-Wan two things: The path to despair and the strength for endurance. Right now, he was employing both those lessons.

               “Care for a dance, General?” A female voice around the vicinity of his left shoulder intruded. Obi-Wan kept his eyes closed for a moment and summoned all of his Jedi composure before he faced his next assailant.

               It turned out to be a beautiful female pantoran. Her blue skin accentuated in a figure hugging black dress made of very see-through flowery lace studded all over with tiny purple gems. Her lavender hair was adorned in a golden headdress, which matched her yellow eyes. She was smiling and looked genuinely friendly. She was a welcomed distraction, her intrusion banished the horrors in Obi-Wan’s mind.

               “Thank you.” Obi-Wan said in earnest.

               “Thank you? I didn’t…” The beautiful Pantoran was puzzled.

               “I mean, yes, let’s dance.” Obi-Wan offered her his hand and walked her to the dance floor. They danced the waltz along with the other bright couples. The movement calmed Obi-Wan. It felt like meditation.

               “You don’t remember me do you?” She suddenly said after a while.

               “I, forgive me.” Obi-Wan was idly staring at her forehead until she spoke and racked his brains hard. “You do seem very familiar. Have we met?”

               “I’m Riyo Chuchi. You and General Skywalker aided me with a negotiation with the natives on Orto Plutonia once? A very cold iced-up planet?” She prompted.

               “Oh. I do remember. Forgive me, my lady. It seemed a lifetime ago.” Obi-Wan smiled apologetically.

               “For a soldier. It very well is.” A graveness entered Riyo’s kind voice.

               “Indeed it is.” Obi-Wan said softly.

 

 

               Padme laughed, her teeth flashed white between her dewy lips. She was dancing with her husband. She was floating on air.

               “Ani, put me down. People might be looking.” Padme said breathlessly.

               “You’re so beautiful tonight.” Anakin set Padme back down. They had been dancing at the edge of the large dance floor.

               “I think I need to sit down.” Said Padme. They went to sit at the nearest empty table.

               “I’ll get you some water.” Anakin motioned to get up but Padme took his hand.

               “No, no. I’m alright. Just a little out of breath.”

               “If you’re sure…”

               “I am.” Padme smiled, Anakin looked so concerned, so _loving._

               “I didn’t ask earlier but, how long have you been...” Anakin trailed off.

               “Five months come next week.” Padme lowered her voice.

               “Five months…that’s how long I’ve been away isn’t it?” Anakin said regretfully. “If the chancellor hadn’t been kidnapped I don’t know if they would ever bring us back from the Outer Rims. It’s lucky that we had a mission on Ansion, otherwise…”

 _Us._ Padme latched onto the pronoun. _Him and Obi-Wan._ She saw. Obi-Wan’s odd demeanour and Anakin’s equally odd reaction to it. She did not want to wonder what transpired between the two. It was a realm she was never to know. A part of her husband she could never touch. A subdued jealousy rose its head in Padme’s heart.

               “Shh. Ani, it’s okay. You’re here now.” Then, tentatively she began, “With Obi-Wan earlier…what was that?”

               Anakin’s face fell. “It’s…” Anakin could not find the words. How was he to explain to his wife the mysteries of their Force bond. That each time they opened their minds to each other, their souls intertwined. That the oneness he felt with Obi-Wan was a joy exclusive to them. That he needed Obi-Wan as much as he needed her.

               Padme read Anakin’s face and understood. Padme was resigned that she could never fully grasp the nature of Anakin’s bond with Obi-Wan but she was anything but prosaic. Yes, they were brothers, yes, they were friends, yes, they were partners but they were also _more._ An intimacy not unlike that of lovers and equally fraught with feeling. It was a mutual, transmissive, life-saving, life-long bond. This was something Anakin could not do without. Something she could not give him.

_Something as primal as that…_

               As long as Anakin did not lie to her, she could live with it.

               “As long as you come back to me.” Padme said with certainty. Not a trace of sadness or jealousy coloured her tone, only acceptance.

               “ _Always.”_ Anakin’s eyes darkened with emotion His beautiful Padme, his stars, his galaxy. His heart ached for her and her intelligent soul. Anakin took Padme’s hand in his, not caring who saw. Padme smiled at him and all was right again.

               “It’s getting late. I want to go home now.” Padme was a little flushed and she did look tired.

               “Of course. I’ll send you home.”

               “No need for that. Typho is waiting for me in the car. Will you come over later?”

               “Yes. I’ve missed you too much to bear another night without you. I’ll walk you out.”

               Padme basked in her husband’s testimony of love. She had nothing to worry about.

               Anakin stood and Padme followed suit. He escorted her up the stairs right to the exit of the Imperial Palace. Padme commed Captain Typho and they waited together.

               Anakin pulled Padme into another kiss just before Gregar Typho pulled up with Padme’s speeder.

               “Good night, my lady.” Anakin bowed.

               Padme inclined her head, smiling and got into the speeder. They waved each other goodbye.

 

 

               Palpatine watched the scene before him unfold with sharp, unblinking eyes. He had been observing Anakin with Padme and Obi-Wan. He had witnessed the lovers reunite and Obi-Wan’s obvious turmoil with glee. This was the triad of Love he had counted on. Things needed to be _perfect_ before it could fell apart. But that could wait. First, he needed to create a little _unrest_ in his future protégé.

               Palpatine waited for Anakin to re-emerge in the ballroom and sent a droid to summon the boy to him. Now was the time for the next step.

               “You called for me, Chancellor?” Anakin knelt down beside Palpatine’s chair.

               “Leave us.” Palpatine instructed to the guests sitting at the long table with him then turned to Anakin, “Yes, sit with me my boy.” Anakin pulled the chair next to Palpatine’s.

               “I hope you’ve enjoyed the Ball. A little extravagant perhaps for the Jedi but it is the norm for us _politicians_.” Palpatine said self-depreciatingly.

               “Yes, I have. And no, chancellor. It’s the Jedi that isn’t used to a little indulgence.” Palpatine chuckled at Anakin’s remark.

               “Speaking of the Jedi. I have something to ask of you. I hope you trust me…” Palpatine said carefully.

               “Of course.” A frown creased Anakin’s brow.

               “I need your help, son.” Palpatine subtly banked on the boy’s filial piety for him. Anakin waited for Palpatine to continue, not understanding the request.

               “I’m depending on you…to be the _eyes, ears_ and _voice_ of The Republic.”

               “What do you mean?” said Anakin, starting to feel uneasy.

               “Anakin, I’m appointing you to be my personal representative on the Jedi Council.”

               Anakin froze, “Me? A master?” Anakin wanted to point out the idea was ridiculous and checked himself, biting his lip. “I’m overwhelmed, sir.” He said and paused, then launched into his explanation, “The council elects its own members. They’ll never accept this.”

               “I think they will. They _need_ you. More than you know…”

               The hidden edge in Palpatine’s eyes was stark now. He took Anakin’s silence as acceptance then clapped the boy on the back.

               “That’s all I have to say. I hope I haven’t ruined your evening with business talk.” Palpatine strove to lighten the situation. Anakin looked deep in thought.

               “Not at all.” Anakin replied.

               “Alright, my boy. I think the night is no longer young for someone such as me.” Palpatine raised from his seat and immediately his bodyguards came to escort him.

               Palpatine turned at the edge of the stairs leading down the raised platform and said, “I trust I’ll hear from you soon.”

               “Yes, sir.” Anakin bowed and watched the man leave.

               The night was turning to be quite eventful for Anakin Skywalker. He could do with a little of Obi-Wan’s masterly composure right about now. He stood to scan the sea of guests and found Obi-Wan easily enough, his ginger hair stood out like a beacon against the black-attired crowd.

 

 

               Obi-Wan was saying his goodbyes to Riyo when he turned and walked right into someone. “I apologize, I didn’t…” He looked up to see Anakin. “Oh, it’s you.” Obi-Wan swallowed his tangled emotions and peered over Anakin’s shoulder and asked, “Where’s Padme?”

               “She left already.” Obi-Wan tried to gauge Anakin’s emotions from his voice but could not make anything of it.

               “Well, shall we go too? I’ve had quite enough for tonight.” Obi-Wan threw a glance at the thinning crowd.

               “Not me, I haven’t.” Anakin broke into a grin Obi-Wan had learned meant nothing good and pulled Obi-Wan onto the dance floor. “I’ve been saving my last dance all night for you.” Anakin lidded his eyes.

               Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow, “Oh, have you.” Anakin placed his hand on Obi-Wan’s waist and took Obi-Wan’s hand in his other. He took the lead and Obi-Wan followed.

               “I saw you had lovely company just now.” Anakin insinuated as they moved to the music.

               “Not as lovely as yours.” Obi-Wan said lightly and Anakin winced inwardly. He searched Obi-Wan’s eyes for his feelings and faced a blank.

               Anakin slid his hand on Obi-Wan’s waist lower and pulled the slighter man closer until they were cheek to cheek. He leaned down and whispered in Obi-Wan’s ear, “Lovely is subjective.”

               Anakin’s breath ghosted Obi-Wan’s ear and his grip on Anakin’s shoulder tightened. He wished he could hurl Anakin across the room with the Force like in their sparring sessions. That would teach him a thing or two about personal space.

               When Anakin peered at Obi-Wan’s face he was pleased to see he achieved the desired effect. Obi-Wan looked discomposed, in a good way. Blue eyes gone a little wild.

 _That maddening grin of his_. Obi-Wan thought.

               He then acted on impulse, putting muscle into his movement and whirled Anakin around, dipping him low to the floor. A reenactment of their positions by the waterfall the night before, their roles reversed. He relished in Anakin’s surprised noise, and put his mouth close to Anakin’s ear and said in a low voice, “I agree.” He then proceeded to scrape his beard along Anakin’s jaw as he pulled them both up again, resuming his docile position as the follower.

               Anakin lost his train of thought. _That’s new,_ his mind registered. The sensation of Obi-Wan’s beard against his cheek had scrambled his heart rate.

               There was a challenge in Obi-Wan’s eyes, a daring look and Anakin being Anakin, rose to the occasion. He quickened their steps. Grasping Obi-Wan’s hand, he spun Obi-Wan out of the enclosure of his arms in a wide arc, then reeled Obi-Wan back in, bringing his arms over Obi-Wan’s head. Anakin’s arms were crossed over Obi-Wan’s waist, each of Obi-Wan’s hands secured in his own.

               Obi-Wan found himself trapped in an embrace, his back flush against Anakin’s chest. Then he felt Anakin nuzzling his hair and before he could protest, soft lips were pressed to the side of his face, right next to his ear. Obi-Wan inhaled sharply.

               Anakin spun Obi-Wan to face him again and they resumed their dance.

 _How about that?_ A mocking grin creased Anakin’s mouth.

               Obi-Wan looked scandalized. Anakin laughed, throwing his head back.

               Obi-Wan stared. Eyes focused on Anakin’s mouth, the lips that kissed him. That was a step beyond what Obi-Wan had _ever_ wanted to delve into. Especially with Anakin.

               “I’m sorry was that too… _uncivilized_?” said Anakin.

               “Yes.” The reply tripped off Obi-Wan’s tongue much too quickly, his voice several octaves too high.

               Anakin slowed them to a stop and released his less than willing victim. He was beaming again and this time it was directed at Obi-Wan. “ _Now,_ I’m ready to go home.” Anakin turned and walked into the crowd, throwing a glance over his shoulder, still smirking.

 _Damnation_. Obi-Wan closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. Force knows who saw them. He looked around and just about every single soul in the Grand Ballroom were staring transfixed at him. Apparently, ‘everyone’ was the answer. Obi-Wan felt his face burn and stalked through the crowd, hurrying after Anakin.

               When Obi-Wan reached the exit, Anakin was already waiting in the speeder at the bottom of the stairs. Obi-Wan went down the stairs and vaulted into the passenger seat, no bothering with the door.

               Anakin revved the engine and grinned at Obi-Wan.

               “Now, Anakin…” Obi-Wan began cautiously and never got to finish his sentence. Wind whipped his hair and they sped into the night sky.

               Coruscant’s multicoloured lights were reduced to blurry streaks of colour around them. Anakin was whooping, pushing the speeder to its limits. Obi-Wan’s stomach churned and he held on for dear life. Then he looked across at Anakin. Anakin was laughing again. His reckless exuberance was infectious.

_Wild and beautiful._

               For a moment Obi-Wan’s fear of Anakin’s suicidal flying was replaced with something akin to unbridled happiness.

 _You’ll be the death of me_. Obi-Wan thought absently.

 

 

 

               When Anakin slowed the speeder to a stop in front of the Jedi Temple rather than parking it, Obi-Wan knew. He wished he did not but he did.

               “You’re going to her aren’t you?”

               “Yes.” Anakin said without hesitation.

               With the simple admission, Obi-Wan felt an old worry growing in his mind. Its weight settling heavier still in his heart. This was a dangerous game Anakin was playing. Passions were quick to enflame, Obi-Wan knew. He had been there many times before. And Padme, Padme was a fire in her own right. She might be more rational than Anakin but still, she was as fiery as Anakin. The two put together could result in incendiary disaster. Because Anakin Skywalker was no ordinary Jedi. The fate of the universe rested upon his shoulders.

 _“He is the chosen one.”_ Qui-Gon’s voice echoed in Obi-Wan’s mind.

               After seeing Anakin with Padme tonight, Obi-Wan knew that Anakin’s relations with Padme was beyond the reproach of attachment. It had already happened. It made so much sense now, the way Anakin behaved whenever Padme was entangled with Republic and Jedi affairs. His irrational _Anger_ and _Fear._ If an untimely death should be Padme’s fate, Obi-Wan did not dare to think how it would affect Anakin.

               “Obi-Wan…” Anakin spoke his name. His expression hard to make out in the dark.

               Obi-Wan was resigned to whatever Anakin wanted so he simply watched. Anakin took his hand and kissed the armguard, right over the Open Circle emblem. At the same time, he felt Anakin in the Force, caressing the edge of his shields. Another symbolic act to seal their burgeoning bond. Obi-Wan did not let up, firmly keeping his shields.

               Anakin lifted his head and leaned in, pulling Obi-Wan in an embrace. Obi-Wan let Anakin cling to him, unmoving. He wanted to reciprocate but in his mind, things were precarious as it was.

               “Say something.” Anakin buried his face in the crook of Obi-Wan’s neck. His voice was small, he sounded young. Like a padawan more than a seasoned general.

              Obi-Wan's restrain snapped and he crushed Anakin close.

               “I _can’t._ ” Obi-Wan’s voice was a hoarse whisper, his fingers wound tight in Anakin’s tunics.

               Anakin wanted to ask _Why?_ but he did not. He knew what Obi-Wan would say and he knew he would be angry and right now he did not want to feel angry. He inhaled laboriously and sighed, his shoulders sagging. He clutched at Obi-Wan until Obi-Wan gently pushed a hand between them. Anakin looked at his one-time master. Obi-Wan did not seem happy or sad or anything at all, rather he looked resigned and _forgiving._

               Anakin fixed Obi-Wan in a penetrating gaze but the man was already lowering his own. Ever blue, ever unreadable, ever unreachable. Obi-Wan had always hung just out of his reach. At least he had allowed Anakin to hold him.

               Anakin watched Obi-Wan got out of the speeder and climb the steps without as much as a glance over his shoulder. Once Obi-Wan disappeared from sight, Anakin stared at the Jedi Temple. The building loomed over him, its shadow swallowing all.

 _Why can’t I have everything?_ Anakin thought accusingly.

               Then he took off at terrifying speed through the night sky. Padme was waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope that's not too bad? *winces*. I think I'm getting the hang of this better now. Next up, a certain Sith apprentice awakens back on his training ground, Mustafar. (OR, I could like write a different scene first Idk. We shall see).


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of Visions and Hope. *cough* foreshadowing *cough*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, FINALLY an update. I just wrote what I had and didn't beta this. So apologies for errors and whatnot. I just find beta-ing extremely tedious and it saps me to keep writing tbh. SO THERE. I'll now spare you the boring excuses. I just wanna say THANK YOU to everyone who has been encouraging me to continue the struggle & not abandon this fic. Hope you like the update. I'll try to be more consistent with updates :)

               Obi-Wan willed himself not to turn for he knew he would be met with Anakin’s eyes, glinting even in the dark, _wanting_ things Obi-Wan was sure even Anakin himself was remiss in understanding. If there was one thing Obi-Wan was sure about, it was this; Anakin Skywalker did not understand himself.

 _Anakin feels ‘Lost’._ Obi-Wan concluded gravely in his mind.

               At the same time, Obi-Wan could not help but feel as if some _thing_ was approaching, something bigger than just himself and Anakin, like a tidal wave that would sweep up the entire galaxy as they knew it.

 _The Force is at work. I can feel it._ Obi-Wan thought as he stepped into the threshold of the Temple’s entrance. And whatever the Force is doing, it was wreaking havoc with Obi-Wan’s inner-workings, creating a turmoil that seemed to be on a collision course with a very _bad_ outcome.

               Obi-Wan paused at the top of the stairs, he waited to hear the roar of engine as Anakin sped away from the temple, away from _him._ Obi-Wan knew Anakin was waiting for him to at least spare a glance but if there was anything left for him to salvage, it was this: His _consent_. If Anakin wanted to go to Padme, there was nothing he could do to stop it but he was not generous enough to be all _too_ forgiving. When he finally heard the speeder tearing away into the night, Obi-Wan willed himself not to feel.

               A futile effort really. Obi-Wan felt a very real, very _physical_ ache to go along with the one in his heart. That was the after effects of the Force-synchrony of course. The constant, _maddening_ ache. He thought he would get used to it by now.

               Obi-Wan sighed. _What am I to do with him, Qui-Gon?_

               Silence. Of course. But what _was_ he expecting? A phantom voice from the nether of the Force? A waking vision? Obi-Wan was sure he was losing it. Passing a hand over his face, Obi-Wan shook the thought loose and walked on.

               Obi-Wan palmed open the door to Anakin’s room. He sat on the bed and removed the borrowed boots, intending to retrieve his own pair and head for his room three floors above. As he rested his arms on his knees however, staring at the dusty floor a flare of anger licked at Obi-Wan’s heart.

               “What did I do _wrong_ Master?” he whispered harshly to the empty room.

_Why does it feel like I’ve failed Anakin? Like I’ve failed **myself** for caring so much about him. What does ‘Duty’ dictate now? What would…you do, Master?_

               Obi-Wan felt like his 12 year old self, a desperate youngling vying for Qui-Gon’s help and attention. Something is brewing, Obi-Wan felt it. And it is _dark_. Anakin’s violent nightmare in the cave, Anakin’s thoughts when he found out about Palpatine’s abduction, Anakin’s terrifying attachment to Padme and himself. These were not _little_ things. Obi-Wan knew better. Yoda had taught him to _know_ better. These were subtle signs from the Force and the Force is _never_ a nursemaid. With that, Obi-Wan decided he probably should consult Yoda on the matter.

               Heaving yet another quiet sigh, Obi-Wan let himself fall back onto the bed. Clouds of dust puffed into the air with the movement. Uncaring, Obi-Wan closed his eyes. His own room was just as dusty anyhow he reasoned. Well, _almost_. Obi-Wan had not slept in his bed for five months (duration of his and Anakin’s deployment to the Outer Rim) but Anakin, he suspected had not slept in his own bed for much longer. _Much,_ much longer.

 _What if Padme got pregnant_?

               Obi-Wan decided the idea was too horrifying to ponder and steadied his breaths into long and deep inhalations to ease himself into blissful oblivion.

[* * * *]

               The suns bathed the desert in an orange glow, their scorching heat mellowed by the approaching dusk. A lone figure trudged up a sloping sand dune, his tattered brown cloak billowing softly behind him. Once he reached the top he paused to gaze at the twin sunset. He lingered, hoping the beauty before him would move his dead but still beating heart.  
               

               He felt nothing. The silence that echoed through the Force since the Great Grief reverberated still.  It was too soon still, what was he expecting? A lesser man would have screamed, cried or at least sighed but not Obi-Wan Kenobi. He clung still to the principles of his kind. He was  _Jedi_. Despair is not the way of the Jedi. It was important, more than ever before that he should uphold their beliefs.

            The wind picked up, whistling. Obi-Wan closed his eyes, enjoying its soothing caress, smoothing away the creases between his brows. It made him look a little younger, unguarded. This was the only indulgence he could afford. Sleep was no reprieve. This was  _it_ , his slice of escapism. Breathing deeply, he let his arms hang loose and focused on relaxing his muscles. Before, he would have reached for the Force, flooding his extremities with its warmth. In its present state, the Force offered no such comfort.  _Loss_ sang throughout the gouges of silence. No. He had to learn to meditate without its aid.

_Master?_

               Obi-Wan whirled around, his eyes wild, icy panic coursed through his veins. The metal of his lightsaber felt cold in his palm, wrenching him back to reality. It had happened again. He had heard the phantom voice of his Padawan. It was as if the planet was threatening to drive him to insanity. Tatooine, homeplanet of Anakin Skywalker. These whispers always triggered blind panic in his part. It was disturbing. He disliked how disarming it was. What was more irksome to the Jedi Master was that the voice sounded young and  _innocent_. It was Anakin.  _His_ Anakin. The brother and friend he used to know. All that was no more.

               Hues of purple bled from the orange-red horizon. Darkness was coming. Memories of yellow-red eyes flashed in Obi-Wan’s mind. He could smell the pungent ash of an angry red planet. He could feel the heat of the lava licking at his skin. Most of all, he could  _taste_ the betrayal. Such was the memory of a Jedi. Obi-Wan blinked. He clipped his lightsaber back to his belt, its weight against his hip comforting. He tugged his tattered cloak closer to his body and inserted his hands into the sleeves. It was cold now. Obi-Wan let go of the moment and walked on.  
_There is no emotion, there is peace_.

 

[* * * *]

               Obi-Wan opened his eyes and found himself staring at the ceiling.

               _It’s just a dream._ He thought, not even believing himself. He knew it was a vision. A vision of a destiny that _may_ be.

               Obi-Wan brought up a shaking hand and covered his face with it. He felt like the vision made both _no_ and _absolute_ sense. Like an incomplete memory from a different lifetime, a separate chain of events, a different set of choices.

               Obi-Wan Kenobi felt like he was the galaxy’s onlyhope, its fate and destiny impossibly intertwined with what _he_ chose to do. The realization made his head swim and for a moment before he blacked out, he thought he heard Qui-Gon calling his name.

_Obi-Wan…_

 

 

 

 

 

               A shaft of light from the city outside fell across Anakin’s face, bathing his features in pale red. Padme brushed the hair from her husband’s forehead and kissed Anakin between his brows. Anakin had a nightmare again, but was now settling back to sleep. Padme knew how to soothe Anakin’s night terrors. Usually she would just hold him close and he would gradually calm down without even waking. Padme suspected it had to do with her scent that Anakin, despite being asleep, likened to Shmi’s protective embrace from his distant childhood.

               She gently dabbed at the thin layer of sweat with a tissue, softly singing a lullaby Anakin had taught her. A lullaby Shmi used to sing to Anakin. Padme placed a hand on her belly and imagined herself cradling a baby, and Anakin beside herself, singing the same lullaby to their child. She imagined Anakin’s face lit by a smile so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes, lightening its blue into the hue of a cloudless sky.

 _A family._ They are going to be so happy together.

               The shaft of light across Anakin’s face paled into momentary darkness. It made Padme turn her gaze towards the balcony and in the distance, she saw a sliver of the sun. It was dawn. Here was a new day of her finally having Anakin by her side. Padme’s hand stroked her belly again.

_A new hope._

               Padme bent close to her belly and said, “ _Luke_ , if you’re a boy.”

               “My Luke.” She repeated like a promise.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan and Anakin fnally talks about 'it'.

A projection of a 12 foot tall assassin droid materialized a short distance away from Obi-Wan, its glowing red optic lens subdued in the mostly blue image. Deflecting the droid’s projected blaster fire, Obi-Wan advanced, blue lightsaber held to the side as he ran in an arc towards his makeshift enemy.

_Cross-upper cut_

The enemy dissolved. A breath later, a caress of Force-sense touched his back and Obi-Wan whirled around.

_Jab_

Not missing a beat, Obi-Wan felt another caress of danger from the side. Lightsaber still thrust forward, Obi-Wan threw out his free hand.

_Force-push_

The droid image flickered, insensitive to the attack. Its blaster fire missing Obi-Wan’s head by a hair’s breadth as he ducked, growling and brought his weapon around.

_Straight up_

Then a shimmer of blue just behind him and Obi-Wan crouched, pivoting on a foot, swinging the blue blade of energy. Another droid-projection disposed of.

The sound of a buzzer signified the end of the simulated battle practice. Obi-Wan straightened, deactivating his lightsaber, a bead of sweat trickled into his right eye. A cold sweat borne of anxiety rather than exertion. Obi-Wan’s breath was steady, his pulse a lazy beat. If his breathing was any slower, he would likely be delirious from lack of oxygen.

He _aches._ This was his world now. A constant, dull _ache_.

 _It’s not enough,_ he thought, bitter.

How could it be enough? Fighting shadows in a dark dojo, where his weapon meets unresisting air. No weight, no inertia, no _Force._

 _No Anakin_. His mind continued blithely.

He cut the thought off with a deep steadying breath. Obi-Wan turned his face to the skylight high above, where Coruscant’s lights breached the stillness of the deserted dojo. His pupils shrunk to pinpricks, eyes paling into steel blue like the distant stars.

“Again,” he voiced, and the simulator brought to life once more, these poor shadows of war.

 

  ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Anakin and Padme lounged on the settee out on the balcony. They had a lovely breakfast together, and now they sat subdued in their shared languid morning. Padme idly brushed her hair, nestled against her husband’s side. Anakin’s bare arm was warm around her shoulders.

Padme dropped her gaze to Anakin’s midriff, noticing a new scar on his side. A barely visible nick of white against his bronze skin. Anakin’s skin had always struck Padme. It reminds her of Shmi Skywalker, of the arid desert planet and its two suns. Suns which never left Anakin’s skin. She lifted her gaze to stare at the similarly new scar on Anakin’s brow.

 _My Anakin,_ she thought possessively. Shallow anger licking at her heart as she traced the physical evidence of war’s abuses on her beloved.

Anakin turned his face, nuzzling Padme’s palm, meeting her concerned eyes with a reassuring smile. Anakin covered Padme’s hand with his own mechanical appendage, and moved her shapely hand to his lips.

“If our child is a girl, I bet she will have your tiny hands.” Anakin mused.

“Really? And is she going to inherit the rest of my _tininess_ as well?”

“Okay, okay, _petite._ Is that politically correct enough, senator?”

Padme made a show of a pout. In response, a low almost-chuckle sounded low in Anakin’s throat.

“You said if it’s a boy we should name him Luke.” Anakin said, changing the subject. “So it’s only fair that if it’s a girl I get to choose a name, right?”

“ _It?”_ Padme narrowed her eyes, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

“Baby.” Anakin corrected immediately. “If the baby is a girl…with your _permission_ , of course-”

“Of course.” Padme interrupted, smiling. Anakin rolled his eyes and continued.

“I would love to call our girl _Leia_.” Anakin finished, carefully observing Padme’s reaction.

“Leia.” Padme tested the name out loud.

“Yeah. What do you think?”

“I think…” Padme began slowly, teasing, loving the concerned anticipation in Anakin’s wide eyes. “…your negotiating skills are in wanting.”

“And?”

“And I love ‘Leia’.”

“I knew you would.” Anakin’s signature smugness bled into his tone. Before Padme could make a mocking indignant reply Anakin leaned down to kiss her.

Husband and wife lapsed back into companionable silence. Anakin stared at the glittering Coruscanti skyline. The blinding glare crowning the shiny skyscrapers led his line of sight to the Jedi Temple in the distance. The tallest minaret atop the Temple seemed to Anakin, to outshine the surrounding spires. The Force hummed in his ears. The quietness of his Force-link with Obi-Wan registered dully at the back of his mind. With it, a flurry of emotions rose like smoke from his heart.

“You’re thinking about him aren’t you?” Padme sat up and faced her husband.

Anakin bent his head and looked to his side. A silent deflection. Padme read the hidden turmoil written in the press of Anakin’s lips, the line of his brows, the cast of his eyes.

“Go to him.”

Anakin closed his eyes, knowing he could not refuse the allowance.

 

 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

 

Obi-Wan entered the Jedi council chamber and was greeted by the familiar sight of the diminutive green Grand Master and ever-stern Korun Jedi in quiet conversation. The Force felt _welcoming_ in the chamber, felt like _home_. It soothed the frayed edges of his mind like a balm.

Obi-Wan stood in front of the seated Jedi, “Master Yoda, Master Windu.” He said, inclining his head.

“Obi-Wan.” MaceWindu intoned.

Yoda nodded and extended a greeting through The Force. Obi-Wan felt himself calm further.

“You wished to see me, Masters.”

“Yes.  Before we begin, the healers notified the council how both you and Skywalker _fled_ the healers without a say so.” Obi-Wan was familiar enough with the Korun Jedi to pick up the glint of friendly exasperation.

“Ah, yes.” Obi-Wan offered no further explanation other than a widening of his eyes, which may have worked when he was youngling. Obi-Wan’s aversion for ‘incarceration’ at the Healers was not news and in his opinion, should not be questioned anymore for he wore it as openly as he did his beard.

Mace Windu almost smiled. _Almost._

“Hm.” Yoda voiced, his ears twitching. _Brat._

Obi-Wan felt a sudden pang of loss. Standing in the Council Room like a chastened padawan reminds him of Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan chalked it down to the after effects of the dream he had of Qui-Gon the night before. His feelings must have shown or the two Jedi Masters must have picked it up in The Force; for a soft acknowledgement of the mutual _missing_ suffused the chamber.

“Sit with us.” Windu said gently.

Obi-Wan complied, resting the ankle of his left leg over his right knee as he customarily did. It had been a while since he physically sat on the council.

“A mission for you, we have, Obi-Wan. Venture into the lower levels, you will. Seek lost friends, you must. A former enemy, also.”

 _The lower levels? Lost friends? Former enemy?_ Obi-Wan looked quizzically at Mace.

“Quinlan Vos… Assaj Ventress…”

When Mace uttered the last name, Obi-Wan inhaled in surprise. Vos getting lost on a mission was not a strange concept and Ventress was hardly news. But _this_ …

“I don’t understand…”

“A long time, you were away.” Yoda said gravely.

“Much has happened in the last five months.” Windu added.

 _Clearly._ Obi-Wan stroked his beard.

“This is going to be a _long_ meeting isn’t it?” He remarked.

“Indeed.” And this time, Windu did smile. As much as Mace Windu ever did anyway.

 

 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

 

Anakin pulled up the Temple speeder into its designated bay. The hangar was busy as usual, crawling with clones, mechanics, and droids of all kinds. Anakin eyed the empty space where he and Obi-Wan usually parked their Starfighters.

_An image of Obi-Wan flashed in his mind. Peering into his face, infinitely concerned, asking him if he was alright._

_Obi-Wan standing over him, protecting him from Dooku’s droids._

On instinct, Anakin probed their Force-link. Obi-Wan’s mental shields was fully erect. Anakin frowned and strengthened his resolve to see Obi-Wan.

Upon arriving at the astromech maintenance center, Anakin called for his trusty astromech, “Artoo?”

An excited whistle sounded from the midst of what seemed like an astromech gang-fight. He watched the intrepid droid wheel its way towards him and bent down to pet its dome-shaped head.

“Were you arguing with the other mechs again, Artoo?”

R2-D2 let loose a series of indignant beeps in reply.

“I’m sure ‘delinquent’ isn’t the worse thing you’ve been called.”

The astromech let out a decidedly sarcastic whistle and flashed its red optic lens once, akin to an arched eyebrow. Anakin had to grimace at the Obi-Wan- _esque_ ness.

Anakin glanced around and said in a low voice, “I want you to go to Padme’s. Keep an eye on her for me okay? I’ll come back for you later.”

R2-D2 beeped his affirmative. Anakin petted the droid again and added, “Also, I think Threepio misses you. Been muttering about your _reckless_ exploits when Padme and I aren’t paying attention.”

Anakin watched R2-D2 leave the hangar.

_Now, to find Obi-Wan…_

 

 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

 

When Mace Windu and Obi-Wan got up to leave the Council chamber, Yoda lingered.

“Obi-Wan. Speak to you alone, I need to. Stay.” Windu nodded his goodbye and left.

“Master?” Obi-Wan moved to the edge of his chair, resting his arms on his knees so that he is eye-level to the Grand Master seated on the hover-chair.

“Disturbed, you are. Sense it I can. Wish to discuss this, do you?”

Obi-Wan peered into Yoda’s knowing eyes. A benevolent gleam shone in them, glowing in The Force around them. There was no hiding from the one who had practically taught and raised every single Jedi in the Temple. Yoda was guardian of the guardians. Jedi helped others, Yoda helped Jedi. The supporters of this galaxy needed support too and Yoda was their pillar of strength. The Jedi leaned on Yoda as Yoda did on his gimmer stick. It was a burden the ancient Jedi embraced with fiery equanimity.

“I am, I do. I had a dream…a vision. I believe I saw the future and it was both _dark_ and empty _._ ”

Obi-Wan let loose the full brunt of his plagued thoughts into The Force. Yoda’s ears twitched as he listened.

“The Jedi are _gone_. I… I think it has to do with Anakin and I… _hurt_ him, Master.”

Obi-Wan drew a shuddering breath. Yoda was silent for a while, his clawed hand gripping his gnarled stick.

 “Hmm.” Yoda did not sound at all surprised, Obi-Wan noticed.

“The same vision, I too had. Burnt, The Temple was. Suffering, you and Skywalker was. _Dead_ , the Jedi were. A sign from The Force, I believe it is.”

Cold dread seeped into his blood.

“But Master? This _can’t_ be. We must stop this future!”

“Difficult to find, an antidote. For a poison not known. _Clouded_ The Force has become. In motion, the Future is. Always changing, a vision is.” Yoda’s gaze seemed to sharpen further, “In danger, your Skywalker is.”

 _‘Your’._ Obi-Wan blanched at Yoda’s choice of word.

“Of Amidala too, I know. Most Jedi, already know.”

Obi-Wan cast his gaze towards the patterned floor, ashamed. “I’ve _failed_ him, Master.”

“Your fault, this is not.” Yoda rapped his gimmer stick hard against the edge of his hover chair, driving the point home. “ _Desirous,_ Skywalker is.”

 _Always_ , Obi-Wan thought in dismay.

“What should I do, Master?”

“Reach back to him, you must. In Light, guide him. In Light, keep him. Trust yourself, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan felt Yoda’s encouragement in The Force. It felt like standing in the shade of a tree. A sheltering reassurance…which is what he realized he needed to be for Anakin. Now, more than ever.

“Will Anakin be punished?”

At this, Yoda’s ears flattened and momentarily closed his large eyes. The lines in his wizened face seemed to deepen.

“With Ahsoka, that mistake we made. With Skywalker, not the way. For Skywalker, not the time. Perilous, the _balance_ is. On the balance, Skywalker stands.”

Then Yoda paused before adding, “Fated to Skywalker, Amidala is. As you are. The Jedi are.”

Obi-Wan was speechless. It sounded like Yoda was remorseful of what happened with Ahsoka, but more surprisingly, as if Yoda was _permissing_ Anakin’s and his respective attachments. No other Jedi apart from himself openly subscribed to the Prophecy of The Chosen One. Yoda’s expression of faith made Obi-Wan feel less alone.  

“A grand leniency this is, do you think, young Obi-Wan?” For a moment, mischief danced about Yoda’s Force signature. “The Chosen One, Qui-Gon believed Skywalker is. Qui-Gon’s Faith, we must have.”

 _Qui-Gon_. The sacred name uttered out loud by Yoda made Obi-Wan shimmer and glow in The Force.

“Yes, Master.” Obi-Wan attempted a smile.  

 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The first thing Anakin noticed when he stepped inside his quarters were the neatly folded tunics he lent Obi-Wan placed on his bed. The bed looked like it was made and the sheets were dust free. In fact the entire _floor_ was dust free. Anakin went to his workbench and saw that his things had been rearranged. After a quick appraisal, it was not just the bed and floor, his entire room was dust free. That includes _under_ the bed, which meant only one thing: Obi-Wan happened.

Anakin sighed fondly.

_Why is Obi-Wan so difficult…_

He was at a loss. He wanted Obi-Wan to accept his relationship with Padme but how to make Obi-Wan understand? If Obi-Wan simply won’t see past the Jedi Code, past the flagrant _dis_ obedience he committed. The guilt weighed on him, _haunts_ him. Just as the slaughter of the Tuskens that killed his mother.

_To disobey is to disbelieve._

Obi-Wan’s words on a lesson of obedience echoed in Anakin’s mind.

_There are Jedi who turn Dark. They commit small disobediences while still telling themselves they still uphold the Light. Trouble is these tend to accumulate, feed hunger with more hunger. Small disobediences become practice, until they consume._

_When you look to the Dark side, the Dark side looks back._

_We are sworn to the Jedi. Sworn to the principles of the Light. The Code protects us. Only then could we, as Jedi help others._

_To be a Jedi, we must obey. And in obedience, find peace._

He remembered that lesson well, but could he say that he learned it?

Disgruntled, Anakin left his room to find Obi-Wan.

 

 ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

 

Obi-Wan found himself in the dojo again. He heard that Anakin had been looking for him. Might as well just wait here til Anakin finds him, he thought. It was just after sundown, all the younglings had finished their classes, no masters and padawans had lingered for practice. Obi-Wan gazed up at the skylights. Orange-red streaks glowed in the darkening gloom.

He had found a measure of peace from his talk with Yoda. Now he must exercise said peace with Anakin. To reconcile and hopefully _heal_ this sickness of his as well. The void of ache somewhere deep inside him was ever-present. Obi-Wan shivered.

With nightfall, stars faded into view. Gazing at them Obi-Wan thought to Qui-Gon,

_You had it easy with me, Master._

 

 

Anakin saw Obi-Wan gazing at the stars in the middle of the dark dojo.

_Why are you always so alone?_

He walked towards Obi-Wan, reaching through their Force-bond as he did so. Obi-Wan turned his head, barely glancing over his shoulder, noting Anakin’s presence. Obi-Wan’s shields remained.

  _What are you hiding from me?_ Anakin projected to the wall of silence.

“Obi-Wan.”

Anakin halted a few paces from Obi-Wan. Still, Obi-Wan did not turn to face Anakin. He seemed to be bracing himself. Then again, he always seemed that way lately. So Anakin waited.

 

 

Anakin’s presence filled The Force around them with _kinesis_. It was like a beacon suddenly lit in the dark, and Obi-Wan felt like the wick set on fire. He grimaced, hands balling into fists, grappling for calm.

_No…_

When Anakin gently placed a hand on his shoulder, Obi-Wan flinched as if burned. Anakin did not relent, closing the fingers of his durasteel hand, clasping _firm_. Anakin’s Force signature flooded their Force-bond, crashed against his shields like waves on jagged cliffs and Obi-Wan was drowning.

 _Obi-Wan._ Anakin called, soft and resolute; bleeding through his shields.

 _What of peace._ Obi-Wan thought savagely.

Before he knew it he was reaching for his lightsaber, blue energy igniting as he whirled around.

 

 

Anakin felt Obi-Wan’s shields crumble beneath the weight of his Call and anticipated the violence. Still, he had not the time to reach for his own weapon.

With Obi-Wan’s lightsaber mere centimeters from his throat, Anakin froze in place. Obi-Wan’s left hand fisted in the front of his tunics, preventing escape.

Their eyes met in the arctic glow, blue on blue. Obi-Wan wore the look of a cornered feral creature, whilst Anakin that of razor calm.

 _Obi-Wan, peace._ Anakin cut through the noise of their turbulent Force-bond. Their mind melded.

 

 

It was just words yet it melted the icy maelstrom of Obi-Wan’s _unrest_.

Breathing deep and slow, Obi-Wan relaxed, the clashing initial contact with Anakin’s mind slowly abated. He deactivated his lightsaber and unfisted his hands from Anakin’s tunics. He spread his fingers wide, pressing against Anakin’s solid form, anchoring himself to Anakin.

 _Too much. Too bright._ Obi-Wan projected.

 _I know._ Anakin replied.

“I know.” He said again, out loud.

Anakin leaned down and held Obi-Wan close.

Obi-Wan could not tell how long he let Anakin embrace him. When calm infused The Force once again, Anakin let Obi-Wan pull away from him.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan began quietly.

“It’s alright.”

“I didn’t expect that to happen.” Obi-Wan said, apologetic. Anakin simply shook his head.

“We need to talk about… _this_.” Anakin gestured vaguely.

“Yes.”

“You first?” Anakin offered.

“Alright.” Obi-Wan crossed his arms and lowered his gazed. “I’m not going to mince words. When you’re close, when we part even for a day, I’m just… I can barely _bear_ it.”

“It feels like fire in your blood, an abyss in your soul, a _blade_ in your heart.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened, staring at Anakin, recognition naked on his face.

“That’s just it, Obi-Wan. That’s what The Force feels to me. _All the time._ It’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since I turned fourteen _._ ” Anakin’s eyes glittered with a nameless conviction. “And lately, it’s lessened somewhat. I think…it’s _you,_ Obi-Wan. Now you’re half of me.”

Yoda’s words echoed in Obi-Wan’s memory. _Fated_.

“I can teach you how to control it, Obi-Wan. As _you’ve_ taught me.”

“Yes.” Obi-Wan breathed, accepting.

Silence fell over the pair for a length of time. Each relished in their mutual understanding. Their Force signatures mingled, harmonious.

“You’re not going to make me call you ‘Master’ now though, are you?” Obi-Wan arched an eyebrow.

“Well I’m not going to call you _Padawan_. If that’s any consolation.” Anakin replied, smug.

“Ah…speaking of _padawans_. There is something I need to tell you. Might I warn you, this will be quite a shock.”

“Aren’t we just brimming with revelations tonight? Pretty sure finding out we somehow achieved  _full_ -Force synchrony is at the top of the ‘Skywalker-Kenobi Mind-blowing Feats’ list. Wait til the others find out, Madam Nu would probably make us record a _dissertation_ for the Holocron archive on it. So, have at it, Obi-Wan. _Shock_ me.”

Obi-Wan smiled and shook his head at Anakin's bravado.

“We’re going on a mission. Tomorrow. To the lower rims. Quinlan Vos was tracking down Ventress and has gone missing.”

“So we’re going to rescue Vos from Ventress. What’s so shocking about that?” Anakin asked, laughing a little.

“Intel has enough evidence to indicate that Ventress wasn’t working alone.” Obi-Wan stepped close and placed a hand on Anakin’s arm. Anakin felt the warmth of the touch both physically and in The Force. Anakin glanced down at Obi-Wan’s hand, Obi-Wan was placating him.

 _What for?_ Anakin thought, not comprehending the seriousness.

“Anakin…she’s working with _Ahsoka_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow an update. Hahah. It's been ages isn't it? First of all, I didn't beta this. In fact I don't think I'll ever beta anything (I just can't ngh) hence my apologies for any grammar/sentence issues. Do notify me of them if you find any, I'll fix them. Secondly, I will keep working on this. I just can't muster the energy to update very consistently *sighs* ANYWAY, feedback is much appreciated! I'll come up with the next chapter...er, 'soon'.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reconciliation

“What…what are you saying?” Anakin said weakly, disbelief colouring his tone. He stared blankly at Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan tightened his grip on Anakin’s forearm. He then placed his left hand on Anakin’s other shoulder and slowly slid it into the crook of Anakin’s neck, as if soothing a frightened beast.

Anakin reacted to the rare display of physical comfort Obi-Wan offered. He blinked and searched Obi-Wan’s eyes, probing their bond for misunderstandings. Obi-Wan opened his mind; he concealed nothing.

 _Ahsoka,_ the long unuttered name unleashed a world of hurt within Anakin. Their bond clouded with dark emotion.

“Traitor!” Anakin turned his face to the side, away from Obi-Wan’s grip on his neck. His features crumpled with the snarled accusation.

“ _Anakin,”_ Obi-Wan pronounced his name with gentle reproach. “We don’t know that for sure yet.”

“She _left_ the Jedi, she _left_ us and now she’s found in cahoots with _Ventress_ , it’s pretty obvious isn’t it?” Anakin’s anger burned brighter, its heat licking at Obi-Wan’s mind. The unspoken ‘She left _me_ ’ rang clear in their force-bond.

Obi-Wan almost withdrew from Anakin. The intensity of Anakin’s anger bled into his very being. Since _hypersynchrony,_ Obi-Wan was not equipped yet to hold his own against Anakin’s will. He felt all that Anakin felt.

“Stop it,” Obi-Wan growled and closed his eyes. Grappling for some semblance of control, he tightened his hold onto Anakin. “Or I’ll _make_ you stop.” Obi-Wan met Anakin’s eyes, his threat reflected sharp and clear in the arctic pools of blue.

Anakin’s memory jolted back to the scene of just moments earlier, when Obi-Wan held his ‘saber at Anakin’s throat. It reminded him that their roles have been swapped, that Obi-Wan needed _him_ to be the calm one now.

 _Need_ , the Force cajoled him.

It moved Anakin, it cut through his anger and replace it with dawning clarity. Without hesitation, Anakin took Obi-Wan’s face in his hands and bent down to press their foreheads together. Their breaths mingled.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

Anakin projected into their bond. He measured his breaths and released his discontent into the Force. He focused onto Obi-Wan’s expression, and waited for the pain to melt and calm to suffuse the Force once more.

“You’re insufferable, you know.” Obi-Wan pushed at Anakin and pulled back a little, sighing as he did so.

Anakin moved his hands from Obi-Wan’s neck to his shoulders instead; a familiar scene between the two in their years as Master and Padawan, now their roles reversed.

“I know,” Anakin replied ruefully. His mind wandered back to his lost padawan, the implications of Ahsoka being embroiled with Ventress _worried_ him and the fact that he still worry _angers_ him.

 _Why should I care anymore?_ Anakin thought vehemently.

Presently, wariness crossed to his consciousness from Obi-Wan, a silent nudge through their bond. A gentle warning.

“It’s…hard. To let go of her,” Anakin finally voiced.

Anakin’s eyes glittered in the semi-darkness of the dojo. Obi-Wan wondered if they were unshed tears.

“At least she’s alive,” Obi-Wan offered, his gaze flickered to the dojo floor.

 _Qui-Gon._ The name was a mournful whisper in the Force, barely heard. Anakin caught it nonetheless. It struck him that of all people closest to him, Obi-Wan probably understood his pain best.

 _But Qui-Gon died a Jedi,_ the angry voice inside Anakin deflected. _He didn’t…_

Obi-Wan’s head snapped up at the quiet accusation.

“How _dare_ you,” Obi-Wan grounded out, his anger rolling out like a tidal wave across their bond. “Would you rather Ahsoka _died_ , Anakin?”

Anakin took his hands off Obi-Wan and let them fall to his sides. He hung his head, not answering the question.

“’Course not.” Anakin snapped a moment too slow. He then heaved a sigh. “I’m just…I didn’t expect…” Anakin broke off at a loss for words.

Obi-Wan passed a hand over his face. It was unlike him to lose his temper so easily. In fact, he was one hundred and ten percent positive that he _wasn’t_ himself. Obi-Wan felt much too imbalanced to be the one to placate Anakin.

“You’re overwhelmed.” Obi-Wan stated, gesturing vaguely with a hand.

“Yes.” Anakin peered sideways at Obi-Wan, not lifting his head.

“You being overwhelmed, overwhelms _me_.” Obi-Wan frowned and quirked an eyebrow. Playful exasperation danced in his eyes. He was trying to defuse their tension.

“Chizsk to be us.” Anakin replied tonelessly.

Obi-Wan huffed in assent. He had crossed his arms across his chest. Despite the irritation he felt, it occurred to him that it felt… _good_ to be near to Anakin. Gone was the ache deep inside him, gone was the physical numbness plaguing him. With Anakin so near so _one_ with him through the Force, Obi-Wan felt strong….and _not alone_.

Anakin looked curiously at Obi-Wan, sensing the other man’s thoughts. He experimentally pulled at Obi-Wan through their bond, a gentle mental pull that immediately caught at the strands of Obi-Wan’s mind.

 _Come here_ , Anakin willed without words.

Obi-Wan’s gaze snapped back to Anakin and he blinked. Hesitantly, he uncrossed his arms and took a step towards the latter.

 _Closer_ , Anakin beckoned.

Obi-Wan stiffened minutely but complied, taking yet another step. They were standing toe to toe now, hardly a hand’s breadth between them. He was starting to feel more comfortable with both their physical and mental proximity. Obi-Wan now almost welcomed these moments.

Anakin delighted in his newfound intimacy with Obi-Wan. So close like this, he felt it easier to distract himself from thinking about Ahsoka. He decided he would across that particular asteroid field when he got to it. Besides, he doubted Ahsoka spared much thought over him anymore. It stung and Anakin shook that thought away.

The Force cavorted around the two Jedi harmoniously.

Without preamble, Anakin leaned forward and rested his forehead on Obi-Wan’s shoulder. He closed his durasteel hand around Obi-Wan’s wrist easily and let his left arm hang loose. He just needed a moment of silence to empty his turbulent mind and this–Anakin discovered over the years–he only seemed to manage when the warmth of a loved one was close by his side.

Obi-Wan turned his face slightly towards the mass of blonde hair on his shoulder. He saw Anakin’s lips pressed into a line, his adam’s apple bobbing with a swallow. Not knowing what to say Obi-Wan simply stood. He leaned his shoulder forwards a little and Anakin responded to the unspoken offer to rest more of his weight onto Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan’s eyes fell half-mast with feeling.

 _You feel too much,_ he thought. Anakin made no reply.

The only sound in the darkened dojo was their own breathing.

The Force enveloped them with doleful ease.

 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Palpatine sipped at the glass of wine Bail Organa had sent him.

 _A little too tart for my palate,_ he thought. Just like the man.

Too eager for righteousness. Too meddlesome. Bail Organa’s words in the senate meeting earlier echoed still in his mind, _“In a time of deceit, to speak the truth is a revolutionary act.”_ The brazen words had cut through the Senate Hall. He remembered how Organa’s intelligent dark eyes were trained on none other than on him. The entire senate was witness to the thinly veiled accusation. Members of the senate who were usually too cynical to take up in arms in the Hall had perked up. “This was their champion!” their intrigued reactions spoke. Here was somebody brave enough to question the Supreme Chancellor’s authority. Next to Organa was of course none other than Padme Amidala. Or _Skywalker_ really, Palpatine corrected himself. Rebellion was finally brewing. He had foreseen this, had been waiting for it.

 Palpatine swirled the liquid in its glass, a smirk curling his pale lips. What Palpatine did appreciate about the Alderaanian wine though was the colour, a red so dark it was almost black. It was a perfect fit for his aesthete.

Palpatine reclined easily in the privacy of his throne room, where there are naught but him, and the Dark side of the Force. Here, Palpatine sampled his own thoughts as a connoisseur would fine delicacies. Refining his Grand Plan with a brand of joy so keen and dark it could only be known by a _true_ Sith Lord. The one and _only_ Sith Lord.

 _Soon, no longer one…_ he thought.

A tiny red light on the holo-projector in front of Palpatine’s throne started flashing. He pulled the hood of his dark velvet cloak over his eyes, immersing ever deeper into the Dark and let its chilling tendrils snake into his very core, fueling him with power and clarity. Darth Sidious waved at the ‘receive’ button to accept the transmission.

A holo-image of General Grievous flickered on, bathing the dark room in subdued blue.

“Yes, master.” Grievous rasped and bowed deeply.

“Old friend, what news of Mustafar?” Darth Sidious drawled.

“I am landing the ship as we speak. The Union members have expressed their displeasure but are complying nonetheless.” Grievous then turned to his side and coughed.

“Good, good. Prepare for your announcement as soon as you land.”

Grievous glowed at the reminder. He was being made Separatist _leader._ A recognition of status in this war effort. An _honour_ to his service to the Sith Lord. Grievous inclined his head.

Sidious smiled benevolently at his obedient subject. “Did Maul survive the operation?”

“Yes, master. He is in excellent shape.” Grievous’ slitted yellow eyes flickered to his side, as if looking at somebody out of view.

“Bring him forth.”

Without further ado, Gievous bowed and moved a little to the side, making room for the Zabrak.

Darth Maul stepped into view. He did not don the dark robes Grievous had provided. Instead, he walked around bare chested, his black markings displayed in all their ferocious glory. Maul’s only adornment being his lightsaber hooked to a black leather belt and loin cloth that exhibited his new duraflesh legs. Even in the muted blue holo-image, Maul’s horns now shone like brushed metal and the muscles of his legs gleamed with movement, each tiny hexagon of his new skin reflecting light. The nanoserum did not only grew new limbs for Maul, it had infused into his very bones, turning organic bone into living durasteel. His claws, teeth, even his eyes, now all silvered.

Deadlier than ever, the new Maul had discarded the husk of madness he wore since the near-fatal brush with a then very young Obi-Wan Kenobi, which had left him a wretched creature in a sewer, where both mind and flesh rotted for over a decade. Sidious discerned a familiar calm edge in Maul’s eyes. No more of the pathetic rebelliousness he sported post being saved by that other Zabrak, Savage.

When their eyes met through the holo-transmission, despite the great distance between the two, Sidious felt a whisper of dark power in the Force.

“Apprentice mine…” Darth Sidious hissed.

Darth Maul genuflected and spoke words he had long not spoken, “My master…”

Sidious smiled sinisterly beneath his hood. “Do you still remember Kenobi?” he asked, evil mirth coloured his tone.

Maul lifted his head and let out a short bestial growl and snapped his teeth, powerful jaws rippling. “I remember…”

Within his eyes of molten silver, Sidious saw a hate long distilled through the passage of time. A fire of vengeance that raged too hot, too long for anything except blood to quell. The name was a curse to Maul, and Sidious knew the power it held over him.

“You will have his blood.”

“When?” Every muscle in Maul’s body was taut with tension.

“When you have proven yourself worthy.” Sidious replied lightly. Maul immediately understood what was asked of him. He was an instrument of the Dark, he was Sidious’s and Sidious’s will was his command.    

“What is thy bidding, my master?”

“Senator Bail Organa, and his wife, _dispose_ of them.”

Maul’s eyes flashed, “As you wish, my master.”

 

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

Anakin only stirred when he felt Obi-Wan pushed a hand between them. He lifted his head and met Obi-Wan’s gaze, not moving away just yet.

“It’s getting late. We should turn in and regroup early tomorrow morning.” Said Obi-Wan.

Anakin nodded, the peace he enjoyed just moments ago starting to fade.

“Obi-Wan.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s take it slow this time.”  

Obi-Wan nodded. Anakin meant the _Fade._ They could not maintain _hypersynchrony_ when they parted. This they already discovered during all those times they fought together on the battlefield. Previously, Anakin had always carelessly withdrew his Force signature. It was rough for Obi-Wan, having Anakin rip himself away from him after such close contact. Back when it was a one-sided thing, the _fade_ only affected Obi-Wan because he was the passive receiver of the energy, the one who received the tendrils of Anakin’s energy into his. Now it was different. Now the synch had turned mutual.

Both locked gazes and greeted the other through their bond.

 _You ready?_ Anakin’s warmth in the Force seemed like a smile to Obi-Wan.

_Yes. . ._

Slowly both Jedi reigned in their Force energy. The intertwined tendrils slowly separated themselves, caressing gently along each other as they recede back into their true vessel.

Obi-Wan suppressed a shudder.

Anakin gritted his teeth. Even at this slow rate it almost _hurts_ , he thought. What was it like for Obi-Wan all those times before?

 _Focus,_ Obi-Wan interjected his reverie softly.

Anakin obeyed the plea.

And then suddenly they were down to the remaining two tendril of energy linking their minds together… and Anakin saw plain as day in Obi-Wan’s steel blue eyes, the anguish he tried to hide.

Without warning Anakin held fast onto the last thread to Obi-Wan’s consciousness. Obi-Wan’s breath caught, his surprise a wordless alarm in the Force. Anakin then surged the remaining strand with a burst of energy.

Obi-Wan felt the final wash of _affection_ before they were suddenly independent minds again. A gentle mental shield slid over each of their incandescent presences in the Force.

Anakin was smiling. Obi-Wan returned it with a small quirk of his own mouth. He did not need to speak his thanks for Anakin’s parting reassurance.

“That wasn’t so bad was it?”

“Not at all.” Obi-Wan agreed.

The pair walk side by side to the dojo’s entrance. Obi-Wan lifted his hand as he turned to head back to his quarters, so sure was he that Anakin would return to Padme’s apartment.

“You know…” Anakin began.

Obi-Wan only glanced over his shoulder, expecting a ‘goodbye’.

“I could… _stay_ if you want.”

“Anakin you don’t have to.”

“But I _want_ to.”

The Force danced between them.

 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

“I’m glad you kept an extra bunk.” Obi-Wan muttered sleepily from a sleep cot adjacent to Anakin’s bed against the wall. About three feet of space separated the two of them.

“Yeah me too.” Anakin replied.

Anakin watched Obi-Wan’s relaxed features. He missed this easy partnership between them. Those golden days when he was only twelve and Obi-Wan a young master eager to teach him the ways of the Jedi, the secrets of the Force.

Truth be told Anakin knew he was going to have a nightmare that night. He could feel it stalking him like a predator, waiting for him beyond the veil of sleep. With Obi-Wan beside him, night terrors did not seem too terrible.

Anakin felt his consciousness gradually slip, and just before he succumbed to, he dimly felt Obi-Wan reaching into his mind, extending his mental shields over Anakin’s own. Just like back in the cave on Ancion. Anakin welcomed the embrace and both fell to easeful rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is not dead I swear. I perused my beta's (YES I have one now, special thanks to Skygawker!) notes for the previous chapter and tried to write better this time although I STILL didn't beta THIS particular chapter first before I put it up. I'm impatient and I've a headache that's why. I promise I'll have my writing betaed next time. At any rate, thank you for all the kudos and nice comments. Thank you for sticking with me. I appreciate each and every one of you. *hugs*


	14. Chapter 14

Something heavy weighed upon his chest, making breathing difficult. A thin layer of perspiration made his tunic stick uncomfortably to his body, and there was an annoying itch on his jaw. Then he felt tiny gusts of warm and humid wind against the side of his neck.

Obi-Wan groaned and tried to move, to no avail. His limbs felt numb and leaden. Something was clearly amiss. He blearily opened his eyes and waited for his vision to adjust. There was little light in the room; he could not make out much of anything in the pitch black. Panic seeped into Obi-Wan’s grogginess. He turned his head sharply to the side and found his face buried in a mass of hair.

Consciousness snapped him to attention and he stilled.

Anakin was lying half on top of Obi-Wan. The former’s limbs sprawled over the latter, his face half buried in the pillow. Anakin’s breath tickled his neck. In the course of the night, Anakin must have decided the single cot could fit the two of them comfortably. It was an ill-advised judgement, one which Obi-Wan did not share.  

  _Ridiculous_ , Obi-Wan thought. He proceeded to extract his arm to push Anakin’s dead weight off him; the cot creaked ominously.

“ _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan voiced irritably, pushing at Anakin’s shoulder. When the palm of his hand met bare skin his mind grinded to a halt.

_Oh Force, why._

 

 

Steeling himself into further wakefulness, Obi-Wan mustered his energy to shove harder. That was when Anakin caught his wrist and pressed the entirety of his lanky frame closer still.

Obi-Wan stared stupidly into the darkness.

“Go back to sleep, Obi-Wan.” Anakin rumbled sleepily.

“Oh you’re _awake_ now are you? Get off me.” Obi-Wan replied tonelessly.

Anakin merely huffed and made no further reply.

“Anakin, I can’t feel my legs,” Obi-Wan tried.

Anakin responded by carelessly surging their bond with a healing technique used to increase blood flow and Obi-Wan felt blood rushing back to his calves, the soles of his feet, his very toes. A pinprick sensation flared down his legs, making Obi-Wan arch his back a little. It felt like those damned flesh-eating fire insects he once encountered on a mission on a Force-forsaken planet. He nearly swore out loud.

 _Son of a_ , Obi-Wan projected and made use of his restoring strength. He summoned his lightsaber using the force, the weapon was within his grasp in a split second. Obi-Wan yanked his hand free from Anakin’s hold, and swiftly touched the weapon to the crook of Anakin’s jaw.

The feel of the cold metal against his skin drew a sharp inhalation from Anakin. Anakin was thankful he did not out gasp outright. Obi-Wan smirked in the dark.

 

 

“Well?” Obi-Wan said lightly.

“As if,” Anakin rasped and curled his flesh hand around Obi-Wan’s own, pressing the weapon ever closer to the hollow of his throat, daring the man trapped beneath him to a violence he knew Obi-Wan _could_ but would not instigate. As long as reason has not left Obi-Wan, he would never hurt Anakin. Of this, Anakin was sure. Not in this lifetime, not ever.

Obi-Wan’s lips curled. What little light there was that shone through the blinds into the room reflected off the lightsaber, setting their eyes aglint.

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Obi-Wan growled.

Obi-Wan shifted the lightsaber and blue light invaded the dark. Neither moved, yet Anakin almost recoiled. Obi-Wan did not even blink. Anakin felt his heart quicken at the mock threat.

Obi-Wan recognize the shift in Anakin’s eyes. An eerie vitality he only ever exhibit amidst the chaos of a battlefield. That razor focus now pinned Obi-Wan with its undivided attention. It was an approximation of something base, something primal.

 _Bloodlust._ The word flit through Obi-Wan’s thoughts.

Anakin swallowed; the lightsaber shifted dangerously with the minute movement. Obi-Wan ripped his gaze away, he could feel the excitement emanating off Anakin. It flickered against his mental-shields like a tongue of flame. “You’re mad,” Obi-Wan pronounced.

“Says the Jedi who has his lightsaber at my throat _twice_ within the space of as many hours,” Anakin replied, his voice low.

“With good _reason._ ”

“Not in my esteem.”

“Clearly.”

 

 

There was an _edge_ in the Force, in the bond between their minds. Again, it was something Obi-Wan only felt when he was amidst a battle alongside Anakin; never before in a domestic scene. The edge naturally, felt intimate, but at the same time detached but this. . . this felt playful _._

Both lapsed into momentary silence. Anakin felt the metal heating up against his skin. The prospect of it, of being branded by Obi-Wan’s lightsaber oddly enough did nothing to dissuade him of this strange . . . _contest_ between them. For that was what Anakin deem it as, a _fun_ contest. A private kind of abandon that nobody but Obi-Wan could grant to him. Most delightful to Anakin though, was that his feelings on the matter was all transparent to Obi-Wan.

“You’re enjoying this?” Obi-Wan foolishly asked, his tone incredulous.

“Aren’t you?”

Obi-Wan felt himself flush. He thanked the dark room and the stark blue light of his weapon. Obi-Wan deactivated his lightsaber with a flick of his thumb and let his hand fall between them, his grip on the sacred weapon not loosening. With that, he restored a neutral ground between them, an attempt at dispelling the pulsing in their bond.

“Anakin, if you wanted to spar and have me _inspire_ some sense into you, just ask. You don’t have to get into bed with me. I’m a willing teacher and you still have much to learn after all.” Obi-Wan affected his customary masterly sarcasm and averted his eyes from Anakin’s.

 _Force help me,_ Obi-Wan thought privately, glad of the mental shields both Anakin and himself seemed to have unconsciously erected.

“Who says I’m _asking_ for anything,” Anakin tilted his head.

 _What?_ Obi-Wan thought.

 “Well then, why in the world are you sleeping on _me_ instead of on your bed?” Obi-Wan was not actually interested in an answer because really he decided that there simply was not any _reasonable_ answer to it.

“I just wanted to be close to you. That’s all. . .I promise.” Anakin said.

 _Oh_ , Obi-Wan thought. Anakin always knew how to disarm him. Obi-Wan could not for the life of him figure what to say to that, so he did not.

“You’re not used to this are you?” Anakin offered after a moment; enjoying the fact that Obi-Wan was allowing him to steer the situation at hand. It was not like Obi-Wan was helpless. He could throw Anakin _through_ the wall if he wanted to.

“To what?” Obi-Wan narrowed his eyes at Anakin. He almost instantly regretted his unthinking question.

“This. . .” Anakin searched for the word to least scandalize Obi-Wan, “. . . _proximity._ ”

Obi-Wan merely stared.

“Me. You.” Anakin said and paused thoughtfully. His gaze flickered to his shoulder. "Our bond . . . and _._ ”

“And?” Obi-Wan asked warily.

Anakin’s gaze flickered down, “ _Skin_.”

 

 

Obi-Wan was suddenly all too aware of Anakin’s considerable weight on him. How close they were. How _too_ close they were.

“Ah,” Was all he managed. A monosyllabic response that conveyed the static that filled his mind. How was it even possible to feel weak at the knees when he was lying on his back, he wondered.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Anakin said, his expression softening. “Like I said, I just wanted to be close to you.”

“You _are_ close to me.” Obi-Wan replied weakly.

“Well, I want to be _closer._ ”

That consuming desire again. Anakin always wanted _more;_ this Obi-Wan knew. It was a flaw. It was not the Jedi way, to be desirous. It was _his_ responsibility to teach Anakin to know better. 

 _But you like being close to him too,_ voiced Obi-Wan’s traitorous heart. This beating flesh of red _feeling_ , the source of both his strength and weakness. What a fickle and tiresome thing, the heart. Nonetheless, a Jedi could not be heartless.

Obi-Wan sighed.

 

 

“You could at least sleep on your own cot, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said and used the force to pull Anakin’s bed across the floor to the side of their cot.

Anakin paused. Obi-Wan waited for Anakin’s response at the offer. Then Anakin smirked and rolled off Obi-Wan onto his bed. Obi-Wan breathed easy once more.

No more words were exchanged between them and the pair fell back to sleep. What neither knew was that during the course of the night, it was Obi-Wan who was disturbed by a nightmare and it was he who curled his fingers around Anakin’s wrist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There. A pointless filler chapter tbh. Just because. *shrugs and walks off*


	15. Chapter 15

                

               Obi-Wan felt a gentle tug at his consciousness, a singular and familiar warmth he would recognize without sight or sense.

               _Wake up,_ said the voice wading through Obi-Wan’s muddled thoughts.

               He opened his eyes to see Anakin sitting at the foot of his cot all dressed and ready to go. Obi-Wan murmured his discontent.

               “What?” Anakin asked as he pulled on his boots.

               “ _I’m_ supposed to be the early riser.” Obi-Wan pulled himself into a sitting position and passed a hand over his face to rub the sleep out of his eyes.

               “You’ve been tired lately,” Anakin said as he busied himself with his mechanical hand, fine-tuning the delicate rotors into perfect synch.

               Obi-Wan stared. Oddly enough he had never seen Anakin tinkering with his hand. Then again, he realized that he still felt faintly guilty about the happenstance of the mechanical appendage. It was entirely possible that he had subconsciously avoided observing it all this while.

               “ _Kriff’s sake_ ,” Anakin hissed as he poked a tool of some sort into the prosthetic.

               “Do you need help?” Obi-Wan leaned forward. Anakin looked up and nodded so Obi-Wan moved to sit beside him.

               Anakin placed his metal limb across Obi-Wan’s knee. “See that tiny burnt looking disc? I need to pop it back into its socket without touching the pressure sensors around it.”

               “Alright,” Obi-Wan said as he peered into the intricate machinery inside. “And… how do I help with that?” He asked.    

              “Problem is, I keep twitching whenever I move the disc so…” Anakin reached for Obi-Wan’s hand, “All you need to do, is hold my hand.” Anakin grinned.

              “I can manage that,” Obi-Wan said coolly and carefully clasped the metal palm in his own.

              Anakin then nudged at the disc with his tool again, his hand twitched in response but Obi-Wan kept a firm hold and so he proceeded and it was done in no time.

              “Well that was easy,” Obi-Wan commented.

              “Yep,” Anakin replied and noticed the slight crease between Obi-Wan’s brows, a tell-tale that the latter is pondering something, so Anakin asked, “What is it?”

              “Does it… does it hurt?” Obi-Wan asked quietly, opening his hand and replacing it beneath Anakin’s, cradling it.

              Anakin paused before he answered. “It does, actually.”

              “All the time?” Obi-Wan was all concerned all of a sudden, it warmed Anakin.

              “It’s nothing really. I’m used to it.” Anakin turned his hand to clasp Obi-Wan’s open palm briefly before standing up.

              “Master, I’ll meet you in the hangar okay?” Anakin trained his gaze to the floor, rubbing the back of his neck a little.

 _Padme,_ Obi-Wan thought, reading Anakin. He understood perfectly.

              “Alright, Anakin,” he said and watched Anakin quietly exit the quarters.

 

* * * *

 

               It was almost dawn on Coruscant. Padme was sitting on the sofa out on the balcony, watching the lights go off as daylight approached. The morning air was pleasantly cool, it almost felt fresh. Padme had slept little the night before, she missed Anakin too much.

               It was only one night and she had been with Anakin only yesterday but still, she _missed_ him. What was one day after five moons without Anakin by her side? One day was hardly enough. Obi-Wan could wait, she decided petulantly yet knowing in her heart that she would have made the same decision regardless. Anakin was her husband but Anakin also belonged to the Jedi, by Obi-Wan’s side as much as hers. Padme sighed ruefully and closed her eyes.

               She had discovered last week that if she closed her eyes and listened for her heartbeat she would soon hear a pair of heartbeats alongside her own. A pair of _lives_ existing _within_ her. _Twins._ Padme _knew_. Yet this was a secret for a Mother, she decided. Anakin will only be more overjoyed when the time comes. The thought of Anakin’s smile made her shapely lips curve into one of her own.

Anakin stood at the steps that led to the balcony of Padme’s apartment, he was holding his breath. He could sense that Padme was thinking about _him_. He savoured Padme’s private joy and made it into his own. His _angel_ Padme, all rosy cheeked, porcelain skin and cascading brown tresses. The shimmery midnight blue dress Padme wore enhanced her beauty into something ethereal.

To Anakin, Padme looked every bit the metaphor he held of her in his mind’s eye; the _universe_ personified, _his_ universe personified.

               Anakin slowly walked towards Padme, leaned down across the back of the sofa and kissed his wife on the cheek. Padme started and turned, breaking into a smile. She quickly wrapped her slender arms around Anakin’s neck and Anakin effortlessly lifted her up into an embrace.

              “Missed me?” Anakin asked, nuzzling Padme’s fragrant hair, which smelled of moon flowers, as it usually did.

              “What took you so long?” Padme sighed.

              “Couldn’t find Obi-Wan until late last night.”

              “Is he okay?” Padme pulled back to look into Anakin’s clear blue eyes.

              “Yeah.” Anakin said and left it at that. He pulled Padme’s hand from around his neck to kiss it. Padme’s rich brown eyes watched him carefully but did not pursue the subject.

              “Are you leaving again?” Padme asked instead and rested her head against Anakin’s chest.

              “Mission. Not off-planet though. So I won’t be far.” Anakin moved to sit on the sofa with Padme on his lap.

              “What about you, senator? I hear it’s you who might be going off-planet?” Anakin asked, still holding Padme’s delicate hand close to his lips.

              “You’ve been spying on me!” Padme accused playfully and narrowed her eyes.

              “Not me. R2. R2’s just being proactive.” Anakin paused his reverent kisses to Padme’s hand to throw a lop-sided grin her way.

              Padme rolled her eyes. “I’m going to Alderaan for a conference. Bail’s hosting it at the palace. I’ll get to see Breha.”

              “When? And how long?” Anakin asked, now tucking a stray lock of hair behind Padme’s ear.

              “Tomorrow. A week but I’ll be staying an extra week so it’ll be a fortnight. Coruscant feels stifling lately. It’ll be good for my health.” Padme leaned into Anakin’s touch.

              Anakin placed his other hand onto Padme’s belly, considering, “Gregar going with you?”

              “Yes. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. It’s _you_ I’m worried about.” Padme buried her fingers into Anakin’s hair at the back of his neck and pulled a little for emphasis.

               “Jedi, remember? I got powers.” Anakin smirked boyishly.

              “How long will your mission be, Ani?”

              “I don’t know yet. Depends.” Anakin looked away from Padme, unwilling to discuss with Padme the prospect of possibly meeting Ahsoka again. In fact, he did not want to think about it at all.

              Detecting Anakin’s darkening mood, Padme leaned up to kiss him. Anakin blessed the moons and stars in his mind. Padme was like fire wrapped in velvet, all soft and fiery and _his_.

              Upon breaking their kiss, both were a little breathless. Padme held Anakin’s face in her hands and said, “Come with me to Alderaan. Finish your mission quickly and be with me.”

              “I would love to, angel.” Anakin said in earnest and kissed Padme on her flushed forehead. He was so glad to hold her in his arms… then… Anakin sensed Padme’s sorrow like a cold breeze in the Force. It rattled him.

 _No wife should have to live like this…_ Anakin thought, saddened.

              In an ideal life, Padme would never be lonely. In an ideal world, Anakin imagined them settling on Padme’s home-planet Naboo. He imagined raising their children on the lovely planet. He imagined a universe free of war, a universe reigned by peace and order. A universe where Jedi could _marry_. Then, he would not have to _choose._ Then, he could be with both Padme and Obi-Wan. They could _all_ be a family. They could finally be happy _together, forever_.

               The two lovers clung to each other until the break of day, after which they parted once more with goodbye kisses and a heart full of bittersweet longing.

                                                                                                                                  

                                                                                                                                            * * * *

 

              Obi-Wan pulled the hood of his cloak lower over his face and walked faster. Water splashed over his boots and soaked the bottom of his cloak. His breath rose in white puffs of condensation as he hurried through the crowded alley. It was bitingly cold and the rain smelled _acidic._ Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. Even with the rain, the lower rims still smelled a little too _ripe_. Life-forms of various gaits jostled against each other in the foggy gloom; some walked, some crawled and others slithered. The force felt dampened, muddled... _tampered_ with.

              Anakin walked scarcely a pace behind Obi-Wan, his taller figure hunched over, sheltering Obi-Wan a little from the downpour. Obi-Wan took notice of Anakin hulking over him and huffed.

              “Just a little further,” Obi-Wan said, half-glancing at Anakin.

              “Yeah okay,” Anakin replied, he could barely open his eyes in the accursed weather.

 

             Obi-Wan then ducked into a cramped alley, if one could call it such that is. It was more of a gap between two buildings rather than a proper alley. Anakin had to sidle, whilst Obi-Wan’s narrower frame managed to just fit, his cloak brushing against the walls.

              When Obi-Wan suddenly stopped, Anakin almost jostled him. There was a metal door with a slot in it to their right, Obi-Wan rapped it smartly. Immediately, the slot opened and a red light bathed the dark alley, followed by a droid’s impersonal voice, “Password?”

              “Sector five, one, one, three,” Obi-Wan supplied, squinting against the droid’s optics.

              “State your business.”

              “Freighter pick up. Booking number cross, zero, cross, zero.”

              “Processing booking number. Wait here,” the droid replied and the slot slid shut.

              “X O X O? Really?” Anakin voiced, and extended his left arm over Obi-Wan’s shoulder to rest his palm on the opposite wall. He leaned easily into Obi-Wan’s side and started to push his sopping wet hair out of his eyes.

              “It’s Quinlan’s, he thinks it’s _suave._ ” Obi-Wan leaned slightly away from the other Jedi, “Anakin, you’re crushing me,” he complained.

              “There’s no _space,”_ Anakin replied, rubbing at his wet face. The hood of the cloak was not much help.

              “Besides, isn’t it warmer like this?” Anakin grinned dashingly, placing his other hand on the wall opposite, effectively trapping Obi-Wan between his arms.

              Obi-Wan threw his partner an insufferable look and then the door opened. Saved from further ridiculousness on Anakin’s part, Obi-Wan went inside.

 

               Obi-Wan only took one step into the pitch black and he froze. His bond with Anakin flared open and both men tensed, lightsabers summoned swiftly to their hands, poised for action. Something was off. The Force sang _danger_ into their senses.

               Anakin sensed it only a fraction of a second earlier, but it was enough, he ducked just in time to avoid a red blaster from hitting him.

               Blue light cut the dark as they ignited their ‘sabers and Obi-Wan and Anakin found themselves pressed back to back deflecting incessant blaster bolts.

               _How typical_ , Obi-Wan thought in annoyance. They have walked straight into a trap.

               _Flare bomb_ , Anakin said through their bond.

               Obi-Wan sent back his silent affirmative. He force-summoned the stick of explosive from his utility belt and lunged it into the air. Anakin extended his awareness and deflected a blaster bolt towards the flare bomb. Both Jedi ducked to the floor as the flare exploded into smaller explosive, momentarily flooding the dark space with light. It was easier to simply set the place on fire, so they could see rather than fight blind.

 

              The place they were in turned out to be a large hangar. Freighters, speeders, and even fighters were parked in rows against the walls. Small containment blocks arranged on the concrete floor had caught fire form the flare bomb, throwing flickering yellow light into the dark.

               As soon as they could see, Anakin and Obi-Wan zeroed in on a slight, masked figure standing about twenty feet away behind a row of droidekas. They have stopped firing.  

               “Hello, boys.” The masked figure sashayed a few steps forwards. There was no mistaking the raspy feminine voice.

               “Asajj,” Obi-Wan pronounced warily. A keen look lit his eyes.

              Anakin glanced at Obi-Wan before he returned to scowling at their enemy. He never liked it that Obi-Wan was on first name basis with Ventress. He did not understand their dynamics and frankly would rather just drive his lightsaber-

 _Anakin. Not now._ Obi-Wan cut into Anakin’s thoughts through their bond.

              “Where’s Quinlan?” Anakin asked roughly.

               “Vos? Why…the Jedi still hasn’t found out?” Ventress replied laughingly. “Always in the dark.”

              “Don’t worry, I _do_ plan to tell you. But first…” Ventress trailed off and took a step to her side as another figure stumbled forward; this person had a sack covering their head, their hands manacled behind their backs. A droideka rolled forward, its weapons trained unto the captive.

              “I’d like to show you my new _pet_.” Despite the mask, Anakin knew the smirk Ventress wore. Anakin shifted, growing more uneased. The word ‘pet’, its associations to the past rose unbidden to his mind, how Ventress always referred to. . .

              Obi-Wan felt Anakin’s discomfort clouding their bond. He extended a wave of reassurance, like a firm grip on the shoulder to make Anakin focus unto the present.

              Anakin responded to Obi-Wan’s mental touch and relaxed a little. He had Obi-Wan, he had nothing to fear. Especially not from the sith harpy, Ventress.

              “Really, boys? How _sweet_.” Ventress shook her head, not insensitive to the quiet exchange between the two. “Well, this is about to become _much_ sweeter,” Ventress yanked the sack covering her captive’s head.

              Anakin’s eyes widened, his features slackened into an expression of shock. He almost dropped his lightsaber, his entire body felt leaden.

              “Ahsoka . . .” the name rolled off Anakin’s tongue weakly.

              Ahsoka kept her eyes closed, her montrals bobbed with her shallow breaths, she was almost gasping.

              Another wave of shock rolled over Anakin. There was a force inhibitor collar around Ahsoka’s neck. That was why he did not feel her presence. . .

              As if a wounded beast, Anakin let out an agonized sound and he started to move forward.

              Obi-Wan gripped his lightsaber, a low growl loosening from him. This was low, even for Ventress, he decided.

 

              “Stand _back_ ,” Ventress interjected sharply, “Or I’ll shock her. It _could_ kill her you know, she’s been quiet feisty,” Ventress waved a controller in her hand.

              “What do you want, Asajj?” Obi-Wan said, his voice remarkably even.

              “Good, now I have your _proper_ attention. I want access codes to the restricted section of the Jedi archives. The holocron vault, specifically.” The air of play had gone from Ventress, she was all business now, which was most dangerous if they were not careful, in Obi-Wan’s experience.

              “Alright,” Obi-Wan said.

              “ _Alright?”_ Ventress said, incredulous. “If I knew it’ll be this easy. . .”

              “Let go of her.” Anakin cut in, his voice strangely vacant.

              Obi-Wan sought Anakin through their bond only to meet a wall pulling up between their minds. Anakin had drawn his consciousness in, withdrawing from Obi-Wan. There was growing _cold_ , a roiling mass of _void_ where Anakin’s bright presence in the Force should be.

              Anakin extended his hand towards Ventress and Ventress started to gasp, her eyes bulging as she clawed at an invisible band crushing her windpipe.

              Anakin’s pupils was blown wide, he seemed to be in a trance.

              “Anakin!” Obi-Wan called and started to move towards Anakin when a metal crunching noise made him pause.

              Anakin had crushed a droideka in a Force hold with his left hand and lifted it to bludgeon the remaining droidekas out of his way. He stepped slowly forwards, his eyes bored into Ventress’s. A mask of hatred marred Anakin’s features.

 

              Obi-Wan lunged forward and stepped in front of Anakin.

              “Anakin, listen to me. Put her down.” Obi-Wan struggled to keep his voice calm. His heart hammered in his chest. He was starting to feel the _Dark_ snaking its tendrils around him. Whispers of violence threatened to invade his mind. It all emanated from _Anakin_.

              Obi-Wan heard Ventress choking behind him.

 _Come back to me_ , Obi-Wan roared at the barrier of black in their bond.

              Anakin blinked and riveted his eyes onto Obi-Wan instead. Anakin did not seem to recognize him.

 _Come back_ , Obi-Wan beseeched again.

 

              Obi-Wan stepped closer to Anakin, when suddenly a noise caught both men’s attention.

              Ahsoka had sprinted across the hangar, not breaking stride, she threw herself through a window into the gloom. Lightning flashed, thunder cracked and the sound of the rain pervaded the hangar.

              Anakin cried out and sprang into action to pursue Ahsoka. Obi-Wan caught Ventress as she fell, seeing that she was still breathing, Obi-Wan set her onto the ground and quickly went after Anakin.

              Anakin then jumped out of the window. Obi-Wan screamed his name.

              Obi-Wan was about to jump after Anakin when he felt a blow to the back of his head and everything went black.          

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this during a blackout, racing my rapidly dwindling laptop battery hah (possibly the only way I couldve ever finished this chapter). Thank you SO MUCH for all your kind, helpful & encouraging comments. I'm still extremely surprised (& SUPER flattered) that there're people who enjoy this tbh.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried my level best to update this as soon as I had actual time to write and voila here it is. Feedback is much appreciated! Expect me to update again sometime next week~

He was falling, they both were. Anakin shielded his eyes from the pelting rain, keeping them trained onto Ahsoka’s figure further below his. They hurtled into the seemingly endless depths of Coruscant’s underbelly. Indistinct noises of the decrepit lower rims blared in Anakin’s ears. It felt like he had fallen into the open jaws of a terrifying creature, its stomach growling in hunger for blood, awaiting him, a maw of acid and fire.

Then came the screaming. So used to the symphony of pain from his darkest memory, Anakin simply let its poison suffuse his being; his already racing pulse further quickening to a nauseating rhythm. This time, Anakin was awake. _The Tuskens. Shmi. Blood. Death._ A dry sob escaped him. The Force sidled along his flanks, tendrils of energy gently curling about his limbs, as if trying to catch him, a silent beseeching awareness that said; _do not fall._

 _I’ll save her!_ Anakin screamed in his mind.

It will not be like the dark day Anakin Skywalker failed his mother. Not this time.

Anakin extended his arms, called upon the Force whom answered swiftly, and reeled Ahsoka towards him.

 

 

 

 * * *

 

 

 

Ahsoka let out a grunt as she felt a pressure snagging about her midriff, and then she was being pulled backwards.

Ahsoka made to glance over her shoulder but before she could do so, she found herself slamming into Anakin’s torso, Anakin’s arms wrapping protectively around her waist.

“I’ve got you,” Anakin’s voice was tight with emotion. Ahsoka turned to look at her old master. Anakin’s face was strained in concentration, no doubt trying to find ways for them to land safely. It spoke of boundless determination, pure _love_. Despite all the time spent estranged, here was Anakin, same as ever; fiercely loyal. Ahsoka blanched inwardly.

She was supposed to be prepared for this. Things went exactly as planned yet now her resolve wavered. Ahsoka swallowed bile, her heart throbbing in her throat. The weight of the force suppressor collar about her neck seemed a fitting burden now.

The harsh truth of the knowledge Ahsoka Tano carried in her breast felt like a caged bird, beating its powerful wings against her ribcage. It could not be helped, she was on a mission and she will see it through.

As she hurtled in free fall with Anakin, Ahsoka felt the holocron tucked safely in a satchel against her hip emit a glowing warmth.

She will trust the Force.

                                                                                                                                                         

 

 

 * * *

 

 

Anakin zeroed in on a narrow bridge fast approaching them as they fell. His focus honed in by the Force, Anakin glanced around the surrounding architecture for a suitable vantage to use a grapple hook and immediately found one. Adjusting his hold on Ahsoka, he reached for his utility belt and shot the grapple hook. Anakin let go of the rope at the last minute and curled in closer around Ahsoka to protect her as they rolled upon landing.

Winded, Anakin’s hold loosened and Ahsoka squirmed out of his arms. Gusts of air escaped their mouths in the now frigid air. The rain had suddenly begun to let up. This deep in the lower rims, it was hard to distinguish whether it was dark because of the depth or it was already night time. Lights along the bridge flickered to life at the arrival of its only two occupants. Anakin stayed on the duracrete as he caught his breath and lifted his head to look at his former padawan. The bright white lights lit Ahsoka’s face clearly. Ahsoka’s eyes stared into his with a strangely grave determination.  It was an expression Anakin had seen countless times upon her young face during their missions in the clone wars. Looking at her now, Anakin felt pride and regret well in his heart.

 _She’s grown_ , he thought.

The light markings on Ahsoka’s face seemed to have stretched over her brows and cheek bones. The gray-blue stripes adorning her lekkus similarly stretched with growth; Anakin thought they now looked like the stripes of a Tygrion’s hide. Rain had soaked the durasteel grays of her garb. It was similar in cut to what she used to wear. Anakin noticed that there were no lightsabers strapped to Ahsoka’s utility belt. Ahsoka’s bare arms rippled as she moved to stand. The armour strapped about her forearms matched the ones about her calves, they fitted well though looked worn. Anakin’s gaze travelled back to Ahsoka’s face. Her eyes were the same cerulean. They shone with familiar spirit. Standing tall, she looked strong and unafraid.

Ahsoka’s composure quickly dispelled Anakin’s worry from earlier when they were with Ventress. He watched curiously as Ahsoka pulled out a device from her utility belt and held it to the Force-suppressor collar around her neck. She turned some dials on the device and at the click of a button the collar frizzled with electricity and sprang open. Ahsoka threw the collar off the side of the bridge and rubbed at her neck. Instantly, Ahsoka’s presence washed into the Force.

Anakin shifted and made to stand up. He groaned when he felt the pain in his left ankle. Drawing on the Force to alleviate the pain, he met his former padawan’s gaze once more. Anakin had expected to feel angry at Ahsoka, not this odd longing. Tentatively, he projected his presence and probed at the old bond they had. He was not seeking entry, merely reminding them both of the history they shared, of what _was_.

Ahsoka started at the probe, and let out a whispered, “Don’t.”

Anakin recoiled in the Force. Physically, he did not realize he had taken a step forward and raised his mechanical hand towards Ahsoka, which he now lowered dejectedly.

“Ahsoka, are you alright?” He asked instead.

Ahsoka could tell that Anakin was not asking if she was alright in the present moment, the question sought reassurance of her well-being during all the years of their separation.

“I’m okay,” she replied softly. The gentleness in her voice took a harder edge when she continued, “Anakin, I have something important to tell, no, _show_ you. I need you to come with me.”

Anakin’s brow beetled together. “Just now, it was a trap wasn’t it? Are you _with_ Ventress?” His voice slightly raised.

“I am but it’s not what you think. We were being watched, the entire hangar, including the droidekas were bugged so we had no choice.” After a moment’s hesitation, Ahsoka lowered her shields a little, just enough for Anakin to read her feelings. “Search me if you must,” she invited.

Anakin skimmed Ahsoka’s mind for deception and found only honesty. Not that it helped to gain much of his trust. Truths as Obi-Wan like to put it, depend greatly on one’s point of view. It could be skewed by another’s personal agendas. Good intentions does not guarantee good actions. Ahsoka could have been brainwashed by Ventress for all he knows. The realization that the young togruta before him was now a stranger put a knot in his chest.

And Anakin felt used. He had lost his composure in the hangar. He hated nothing more than when he loses control of his emotions. Bad things tended to happen, he _hurt_ people.

Ahsoka sensed Anakin’s distrust and turmoil oozing like sickness into the Force, a dark slime that bled thickly around his bright Force-signature, obscuring its light with blooms of shadows. She did not remember Anakin being this obviously pained back then. Perhaps it was the war… perhaps Anakin simply had endured too much to notice how much he unconsciously… _bleeds._

“Anakin, it’s not safe here.” Ahsoka cut in. Her demeanour betrayed none of the desperation she truly felt. She _needed_ Anakin to trust her. The future of the galaxy was at stake and she was convinced that Anakin Skywalker, _chosen one_ , is the vessel who will tip the scales of destiny. She was but a messenger and she had committed to do her part.

Anakin let out an irritated sigh, “Fine.”

“This way,” Ahsoka said, relieved. Ahsoka turned to lead the way and gave Anakin a wary look, making sure he followed her.

Anakin tried to comm Obi-Wan as they head towards the pitch black alley at the end of the bridge. Obi-Wan did not answer so Anakin closed his eyes and tried to reach for Obi-Wan through their bond. He felt Obi-Wan’s presence in the Force but it was subdued, as if Obi-Wan was sleeping. Unconscious more like, Anakin decided.

Anakin halted. “Is Ventress holding Obi-Wan hostage? I can’t com him, I think he’s unconscious.” Anakin said, his tone tinged with worry.

“Obi-Wan will be fine. Asajj will bring him to the rendezvous where we will all meet.” Ahsoka replied.

Anakin wrinkled his nose at the mention of Ventress. Swearing to himself, not for the first time, to personally _take care_ of that Sith harpy if she dared to ever harm Obi-Wan again, Anakin settled with Ahsoka’s answer. Obi-Wan and Ventress had a weird _thing_ anyways. He had a strange faith that those two would not murder each other.

Suddenly remembering his and Obi-Wan’s actual mission, he asked, “What did you two do to Vos? He was working with you to gather intel on the body thief wasn’t he?”

Anakin recalled the details Obi-Wan briefed him with. Master Duon had fallen on an off-planet mission when he saved some clones fighting alongside him from an explosion rigged by the separatist. His body was due for a funeral pyre as per traditional Jedi ritual and so was kept in the Temple Mortuary. A night before the funeral, someone managed to infiltrate the Temple Mortuary and stole the body. Master Duon’s Padawan, Neera was charged to guard her master’s body. She did her best to stop the assailant but was disarmed and knocked out. Right before she lost consciousness though, Neera managed to bug the body thief with a tracker. The last known location of the body thief was in the Coruscant lower rims and that was where Quinlan came in. The disappearance of a Master Duon’s body was a great defilement that shocked the entire Temple, and even more troubling was that the thief _broke into_ the Temple and _escaped._ Neera was no green Padawan, she was a gifted duelist whose Knighthood ceremony had been delayed due to the war. The motives of such a skilled enemy was immensely worrisome. The Council had to consider the likelihood of a heinous Sith plot for what would _anybody_ do with a dead Jedi’s body?

Quinlan Vos, gifted with the ability to through touching physical objects, to have a vision of past events surrounding the individual who had touched that object, was one of the finest trackers in Jedi Order naturally was the one up to the task. Assigned with the mission to track down the body thief, Quinlan sought leads in the lower rims for months, which eventually brought Ventress into the picture. Ventress had been a bounty hunter for some time by then and proved to be an asset with her particular skillset and network in the underground crime rings. Lead after lead finally brought Quinlan and Ventress into meeting Ahsoka, whom from Quinlan’s discernment had first hand contact with the body thief. Quinlan’s last report to the Council before he went silent for two weeks, was simply a short message notifying the council that Ahsoka was now helping him and Ventress and that they were getting close to tracking the body thief down.

Gesturing for Anakin to resume walking, Ahsoka fell into step with her old master. “Quinlan left three cycles ago. Like you said, Asajj, Quinlan and myself were working together to track the…body thief down.” A pained look briefly crossed Ahsoka’s face. Anakin frowned when he felt Ahsoka tamping down her emotions and strengthening her mental shields.

“During our efforts, Quinlan received news that Master Secura was marooned on Felucia with depleting resources, injured clones and no back up or transport to get off planet,” Ahsoka continued.

“Don’t tell me…” Anakin interrupted, his voice low. He and Ahsoka had reached the end of the bridge, they had stopped walking. “He abandoned the mission to rescue _Aayla?”_

“Yes,” Ahsoka affirmed neutrally.

“He could at least inform the Council if he was going to _leave the planet_ ,” Anakin fumed. “We’re at _war_. He was supposed to track down a _Sith_ for kriff’s sake.”

Ahsoka stood halfway in the dark alley, a slant of light from the bridge’s lights lit half of her figure. She turned to fully face Anakin, her face half in shadows and half thrown in contrasting illumination. “It wasn’t safe to transmit a message, so he didn’t. You would have done the same,” she said tonelessly. Though her expression was unreadable, her eyes bored into Anakin’s with silent reprove.

The unspoken accusations hung between them. Yes, Anakin would. For Padme, for Obi-Wan and once upon a time ago, for Ahsoka as well. So he made no reply.

 

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

 

               A sharp pain in the vicinity of his face registered dully to Obi-Wan as he slowly pulled himself into consciousness. A female voice was hissing at him to wake up. The situation felt oddly familiar to him.

               “I didn’t even hit you _that_ hard, Kenobi,” Asajj Ventress hissed as she crouched over Obi-Wan. Her left hand fisted in the front of the latter’s tunics and her right hand poised to smartly slap Obi-Wan awake.

               Obi-Wan swiftly caught Ventress’s hand by the wrist before she delivered another stinging blow and slowly cracked his eyes open. The back of his head throbbed. He probably had a concussion.

               “Ventress?” Obi-Wan immediately sat up and regretted his sudden movement. He held the back of his head for a moment before rubbing his cheeks. “Ever a gentle lady,” he remarked. “A caress and a whisper would have sufficed you know,” Obi-Wan eyed Asajj warily. Clearly, whatever happened in the hangar was some sort of ruse he is about to find out about.

               “Rogues like you don’t deserve such _treats_ from me, Kenobi.” Asajj held her hand out and Obi-Wan gladly accepted it.

The world spun as Obi-Wan took his surroundings in. He stumbled before bracing his hands against the durasteel wall. They were in the cockpit of a two-passenger transport. Looking out the glass canopy, he noted that they were travelling, still in the lower rims by the looks of it. Multi-coloured lights made brighter by the dark flashed by, and the occasional rhythmic music blared as they pass the myriad of clubs in the notoriously seedy neighborhood.

“Am I… being kidnapped?” Obi-Wan gestured with a hand and looked to Ventress who was already at the driver’s seat, tinkering with the controls.

“Kidnapping you is a once in a lifetime sport, Kenobi. Now sit down before you _faint_ again. We have work to do.” Asajj glanced over to Obi-Wan and resumed scanning the ship for bugs. One can never be too cautious, especially when being tracked by an unknown Sith Lord.

Obi-Wan obeyed and strapped on the safety belts. He then made to check for his comlink only to discover it pried from its slot in his gauntlet. He was at least relieved to discover his lightsaber clipped to his belt and then saw that so was Anakin’s. Obi-Wan’s brows drew together, he reached for the Force and immediate nausea took over him. He tried harder to sink into the Force only to feel himself weaken further. It was as if it drained him of energy when he tried to tap into the Force.

“Asajj…” Obi-Wan begun slowly.

“Don’t worry, Kenobi. It’s just a _trivial_ dose of Force suppressor drugs. Nothing you haven’t had a crack at. I’m on some too. Safety precaution.” Obi-Wan could hear the smirk in Ventress’s voice.

 _Trivial_ … Obi-Wan scoffed quietly, knowing the choice of word was made for his benefit. Obi-Wan crossed his arms across his chest. What kind of ‘body thief’ were they dealing with that Force suppressors were in order?

“What is all the theatrics about? Are Ahsoka and Anakin alright?”

“The hangar was bugged.” Ventress met Obi-Wan’s gaze, her face severe. “It was necessary to be convincing,” she paused to rub at her bruised neck absently. “Didn’t expect Skywalker to completely lose his mind.”

“But I admit, that little performance with Ahsoka was designed for a reaction.” Ventress’s mouth quirked a little.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “With great success. You definitely pressed _all_ of Anakin’s buttons,” he quipped.

“And yours,” Ventress pinned Obi-Wan with too sharp eyes that made him look away. Now that he thought about it, he did react in a less than Jedi fashion to Anakin’s trance-like violence.

“They should be fine,” Ventress broke the awkward silence. “Since Skywalker seemed very _concerned_ about Tano and is in short of a lightsaber maybe he would listen to her…” Ventress then remembered the choking sensation at Anakin’s hand and decided that even unarmed, an unhinged Anakin was probably not the easiest person to reason with.

 “We’ll find out soon enough when we get to the rendezvous.”

Obi-Wan can only hope so. Changing track, he asked, “Who’re we dealing with that necessitates all these ‘precautions’?”

Obi-Wan only glimpsed a sliver of Ventress’s face when she spoke, “The _Sith_. You would think that killing Dooku ended the war… hardly. Dooku’s wasn’t the _master_ , he was the _apprentice._ The master is still at large, a Darth Sidious. We don’t know exactly who Sidious is, yet. But we know that he’s _in_ the senate. This war you, Skywalker and your foolish Order have been championing is a ploy, Kenobi.”

_Sidious?_

 “Vos has uncovered much more than what your precious Order anticipated. It’s foolish of him to leave but at least now you and Skywalker are here, we can finish the mission.”

“What do you mean Vos left?” Obi-Wan asked, voice sharp.

“Felucia,” Ventress said, glancing at Obi-Wan.

“ _Aayla,_ ” Obi-Wan breathed, anger and understanding all at once rose in him. He had heard of Aayla and her company being sent to Felucia to aid the natives from separatist invasion. Aayla must be in quite a situation for Quinlan to abandon a mission. It was unlike Quinlan… Well, what was done was done, he decided and dismissed his crèche hood friend from his thoughts. More pressing matters were at hand.

 “How does all of this tie in with the body thief?”

“Ah, yes. I’ll let Tano explain that part to you.” Ventress chuckled mirthlessly.

“Why?”

“Because, it’s _Jedi business_ ,” Ventress mimicked Ahsoka’s voice. “She insisted on doing the explaining for that one.”

“Jedi business?” Obi-Wan said with growing confusion, he did not like the sound of it, not one bit.

“The body thief is one of your _own_ , Kenobi. Was anyway.”

Obi-Wan felt his stomach clench. _No Jedi would betray their own_ , he reflexively thought but then a recollection of Anakin holding back angry tears as he listened to Rex giving a report of the Battle of Umbara came to Obi-Wan. Pong Krell was the latest exemplar of Jedi turning their backs on the Order’s teachings. Things have changed he reminded himself, the war had spread the Dark far and wide, into the heart of Light itself it seems. Suddenly, an image of Anakin swathed in Dark, unheeding of his cries came to Obi-Wan. He suppressed a shudder and look to Ventress, “Asajj, why now, why are you and Ahsoka helping us?”

“The Force works in mysterious ways.” Ventress began vaguely.

 It was uncharacteristic of her, Obi-Wan thought. Since when did Asajj Ventress discussed the workings of the Force?

“Let’s just say Tano and I have had quite an _experience_ at interpreting the Force’s will.” Ventress’s expression was solemn.

“What do you mean… as in a Force vision?”

 “From a holocron.” Ventress rested her elegant fingers on her sharp chin for a moment, “An ancient one, more of an _artifact_ rather.” She gestured with her hand.

“What holocron?”

“Tano’s. She found it on Illum.”

“ _Illum?”_ Obi-Wan said incredulously.

“Let’s not get started on that right now, Kenobi. You can ask Tano later.”

Obi-Wan was quite for a beat, acquiescing to Ventress, he instead asked, “Did you meant what you said in the hangar? About wanting access codes to the restricted section of the Holocron vault?”

Ventress turned in her chair to face Obi-Wan fully and prepared herself for the annoyance of having to _talk_ so much.

“No, no. That was part of the theatrics, as you put it. To mislead the people who are watching us, the organization the body thief serves.We had to fake Vos’s death so he could leave. The gist of it is, Tano and I got into an argument over how we wanted to proceed with the mission. I wanted credits, Vos did hire me earlier on in the mission so that part was not a ruse. That was before Tano got involved. Anyway, Tano had other… _personal_ interests concerning the body thief, this part is also true, which then led to our falling out.”

“I wanted Tano to cooperate with me to kill Vos off and break into the vault; to steal a specific holocron, which Vos told us has a map of where he thinks the body thief went to. My goal was to strike a deal with the Order for _more_ credits.” Ventress look disgusted at her own portrayal of her personal motives. As if she needed to extort credits from the Jedi of all people.

 “Things got hairy, I killed Vos, Tano was outraged and so I _subdued_ her. I anticipated that the Order would send Jedi to track Vos down and my plan was to, well kidnap them. Turned out the Order sent you,” Ventress gestured at Obi-Wan, “and _Skywalker_ , which was perfect given your previous relations with Tano.”

Obi-Wan rubbed at his beard, listening intently.

“I thought it would be better if they paid attention to the Temple. Now that they think I’m taking you hostage to break into the Jedi Archives and Skywalker is off to, er, _patch_ things up with Tano, we can go under the radar and get on to tracking down the thief before they discover that it was all, _theatrics_.” Ventress smirked.

“I see… This organization, do they have a name?” Obi-Wan asked.

“No specific name. They serve Darth Sidious. That makes them separatists by your jargon. Servants of the Sith.”

“Why does it sound like Ahsoka personally know the body thief?”

Kenobi had always been sharp, Ventress would give him that.

“Like I said Kenobi, later. At the rendezvous. You’re going to give yourself another concussion.” Ventress sounded weary now.

“Which is where, _exactly_?”

“You’ll see, now shut your pretty mouth or I’ll do it for you,” Ventress faced her chair to the front again, effectively ending the conversation. She proceeded to slow her breaths as in mediation. A half-sleep state Obi-Wan himself had practiced when on missions.

Obi-Wan let out a sigh. _No rest for the_ weary, he thought. Now that he was not distracted, that numb feeling, the gut-wrenching _need_ for Anakin had returned. Not being able to sink into the Force seemed to only make it worse. Obi-Wan bowed his head, jaw clenched and gripped his arms tighter.

 _Just breathe_ , Obi-Wan willed to himself.

 

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

 

Ahsoka lead Anakin through dark, narrow alleys, over rooftops, drainage pipes and all manner of architectures not made for pedestrians. Anakin followed Ahsoka in silence, all the while brooding on questions he would like answers to when they reached the purported safety of their destination. Anakin’s boots crunched in the duracrete when he avoided jostling Ahsoka who had abruptly stopped in her tracks.

Ahsoka spread her arms and ran her hands across the smooth walls on either side of them. She closed her eyes and drew on the Force to activate the hidden buttons camouflaged as durasteel panels. The duracrete before her shuddered and a square trap door slid open to reveal a drop into darkness below.

“You first,” Ahsoka said and stepped aside for Anakin.

“What’s down there?” Anakin asked, not liking the look of the trap door.

“An abandoned service tunnel, my speeder is parked down there. We need it for the rest of the journey.”

Anakin peered at the trap door and stretched his senses, examining with the Force for possible threats. He did not sense any threats but felt no less reassured. “How far is the drop?”

“About 10 feet. The ground is gravelly, no water or slime. So don’t worry about slipping.” Ahsoka said as she checked that no one was heading towards them in the alley.

 _Here goes nothing_ , he thought and jumped.

Anakin bent his knees when he hit the ground and hissed when the forgotten pain in his ankle flared. Ahsoka landed catlike next to him and the trap door closed above them. Anakin could not see a thing.

“It’s just here,” Ahsoka voiced and Anakin heard rustling somewhere in front of him in the dark.

The sound of an engine roaring to life broke the stillness, echoing in the tunnel. Anakin shielded his eyes from the blinding headlights.

“Hop on.” Ahsoka said, sitting astride a hovering speederbike. Anakin watched her took out a pair of googles from the compartment in front of her and pull it over her lekkus.

Anakin surveyed the speederbike appreciatively. It was clearly an old racer model that had seen better days. Despite being rusted in places, the purring engine sounded clean. He could see that Ahsoka had modded the speederbike, hollowing the main chassis to lighten the weight to allow more speed. A couple of grapple guns had been installed next to the headlights, which Anakin approved of. Grapple hooks, in his opinion are absolutely _essential_.

“If you’re done ogling,” Ahsoka gestured to the seat behind her.

Anakin almost smiled, almost. “Nice ride,” he remarked as he swung his legs to settle behind Ahsoka.

Ahsoka revved the engine and leaned forward, “Hang tight, Skyguy.”

Anakin’s eyes widened at the nickname and before he could process his feelings about it, Ahsoka switched off the headlights without warning and stepped onto the accelerator. Anakin cursed as they shot off into the dark.

“Are you taking me on a _suicide_ mission?!” Anakin yelled above the din.

“You sound like Obi-Wan. I can see in the dark, remember?” Ahsoka’s Force signature vibrated somewhat playfully.

_Like Obi-Wan, why you little-_

Anakin’s thought was cut off with yet another colourful huttese curse when Ahsoka maneuvered the speeder into a sharp vertical ascent. He could see grills further up, and figured they were about to exit the service tunnels.

“When I say now, we push!” Ahsoka yelled over her shoulder, her right hand already extended in front of her.

Anakin felt the Force humming around Ahsoka’s figure, coiling tight with focus and anticipation. Anakin grunted and followed suit, reaching both his arms over Ahsoka’s shoulders, fingers spread and ready. Pure potential energy hummed about the two Force wielders-

“ _Now!”_

Anakin and Ahsoka let loose a burst of energy, propelling the thick durasteel grills clean off its rivets into the air. The speeder breached the cold night air, into the vicious Coruscanti lower-rims traffic. Anakin barked with laughter, his and Ahsoka’s Force signature mingling in shared triumph.

As Ahsoka manoeuvred the speeder bike at a dizzying speed, Anakin withdrew into his thoughts. He _missed_ this, he thought. He looked at the stripes on Ahsoka’s lekkus once more, how much they had changed since he last saw her, how it signified growth, becoming…and separation.

 

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

 

“Asajj, this is a _spaceport_.” Obi-Wan hated to state the obvious but he needed explanations, _prompt_ explanations.

“I have a newfound respect for Skywalker. How does he put with you.”  Ventress walked even faster through the crowded Sector 500 Port; Coruscant’s largest spaceport where more than half of the planet’s import and export activities took place.

Adding to Obi-Wan’s vexation, the effects of the Force suppressor drugs  still hung heavy on his person while Ventress seemed to have recovered a little. He suppressed the intermittent bouts of shivering that wracked his body. Obi-Wan knew, it was not simply the drugs, it was also his being apart from Anakin. 

“This rendezvous point of yours, is it _on_ Coruscant by any chance?” Obi-Wan pulled his hood lower over his face and kept close to Ventress’s similarly hooded figure.

“Yes and no.”

“Your non answers will only beget more questions,” Obi-Wan gritted out.

“Your questions will beget my fists,” Ventress snarled. “Where _are_ they? Tano’s supposed to be here half a standard ago.”

Obi-Wan then felt a hand on his shoulder, it startled him and and he spun around.

It was Anakin.

The relief that flooded him almost made his knees buckle. Obi-Wan grasped Anakin by the arms and immediately tried to reach for their bond through the Force.

 _Just a taste…_ he only needed to feel that drunken energy coursing through his being again.

But Obi-Wan could not. He felt a sudden and rapturous desire to die right then and there. What was he without the Force. He felt disembodied. This close to Anakin and yet Obi-Wan could not feel him. All he felt was _need, need_ and _need._

 Anakin leaned down to look closer at Obi-Wan’s pale face, his own visage etched with concern.

“Obi-Wan, what’s wrong?”              


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kiss. A bond. An old friend.

 

Ahsoka watched as Anakin steered Obi-Wan up the ramp into the small shuttle. Obi-Wan had his eyes closed, clearly distressed, which was something Ahsoka had never remember witnessing. Obi-Wan had always been the model stoic, even when in pain or injured, _especially_ when in pain or injured; he downplays the pain, exudes calm, practically portrays the martyr. Very _Jedi,_ always so. Now though, the Jedi general was white as flimsiplast, agony so drawn on his features he looked gaunt _._ Even more disturbing was the riot of _emotions_ leaking from his mental shields, or rather its lack thereof. Plain as day, the jumble of frustration, pain, and to Ahsoka's bewilderment, _need._ Even then, it was not just a non-descript desire, Obi-Wan's need was very specific, and it manifested into a very particular thought, a very singular name, an all-encompassing wish that was simply – _Anakin_.

Bringing up the rear of the group, Ahsoka withdrew the ramp to the shuttle, shut the hatch behind them and activated the locking mechanism. No sooner than Ahsoka turned around to face her companions that Anakin who had been grasping Obi-Wan by the arms, rounded on Ventress, "What did you do to him?" His voice was quiet and firm, deadly.

Sensing Anakin's dangerous mood, Ventress responded without airs, "I gave us both a dose of suppresors. For safety reasons. We're being tracked by-"

"I don't care _why_ you used suppresors. Tell me how to fix it," Anakin said, still unnaturally calm.

"It should have worn off by now. Something's not right with Kenobi," Ventress said, glancing at Obi-Wan, who still had his eyes shut tight. Anakin's eyes flashed with anger and he opened his mouth to say something but Ventress raised a hand defensively and continued, "It's the kind you can tap out. So you should be able to help him with basic healing techniques for run of the mill poisonings. Xanthrax, Cryanide, the usual."

"Try it first. It should work. I've tested it on myself before," Ahsoka supplied.

Anakin's lips thinned, his force signature emanating threat, and Ventress could swear she felt a tendril of force energy lightly touching the base of her throat, a reminder of their earlier altercation. To her credit, Ventress showed no reaction. "It better," Anakin said and turned back to Obi-Wan, guiding the latter towards a bunk room, which he knew situated near the front in the particular shuttle model they were on.

" _That_ went well," Ventress grimaced. Ahsoka rolled her eyes a little and said, "I told you it wasn't necessary didn't I. Nobody tracked me and Anakin when we left the hangar."

"We weren't tracked neither... or at least I didn't detect anyone or anything." Ventress looked troubled, her sharp features softening in her contemplation. "Asajj, I'm sure it's nothing," Ahsoka reassured. Ventress gave a skeptical look but decided that any kind of luck at all was _good._ Not that she believed in paltry things such as 'luck' at any rate. It was just a made up word for made up things, but still.

"Let's go punch in the coordinates. It'll be much safer in hyperspace," Ahsoka said and Ventress nodded, following the togruta to the cockpit.

As Ahsoka programmed the navcomp, Ventress sat in the co-pilot seat, she reclined her elegant neck against the head-rest and watched. "Remind me why I'm doing this again?" Ventress questioned, rhetorically of course.

Not replying, Ahsoka simply gave her partner a look and finished running the pre-flight protcols. She then manuevered the shuttle to join the queue to exit the space port and by the time the shuttled finally docked into the take off lane, Ventress was already half-asleep in her seat.

The windshields glowed orange as the shuttle gained speed and finally breached the last layers of Coruscant's atmosphere into the dark of space. Glancing at the navcomp, Ahsoka locked in the variables to make the jump into hyperspace and waited for the shuttle to finish the final calibrations to the hyperdrive. With a deep breath, she centred her energy around her core, dipping her chin as if bowing to the universe at large, asking for the Force's guidance, it's blessing for the journey ahead of her.

                           

                             COORDINATES LOCKED.

                             HYPERJUMP IN 60 SECONDS...

                             DESTINATION: ILLUM.

 

 

* * * *

 

 

 

"Sit," Anakin said and barely finished saying the word when Obi-Wan let himself fall heavily onto the edge of the bunk. He rested his arms on his knees and hung his head. Obi-Wan heard his heart booming loudly and sluggishly, each beat coming in more slowly than the one before. He felt light headed, like all the blood in his body was draining out, like there was not enough air in his lungs­–like drowning. Each passing moment of disconnect from the Force further magnified his want for Anakin. Obi-Wan was terrified of himself, of what he would do if he so much as glimpse Anakin. He just _wanted_ so badly, like he had never before _._

Anakin sat next to Obi-Wan and resumed placing his mechanical arm on Obi-Wan's shoulder. At the return of the touch, Obi-Wan released a breath. "Anakin," Obi-Wan said pleadingly, for what he himself did not know.

"Are you hurting?" Anakin asked, crowding closer to Obi-Wan's hunched figure.

"Yes _,_ " Obi-Wan whispered and turned his head away, hiding in the shadows. The already dimly lit room seemed to gradually grow darker.

"Where does it hurt?" Anakin's hand on Obi-Wan's shoulder stayed him from moving further away.

 _Everywhere,_ Obi-Wan thought, not answering.

"Obi-Wan, I can help you. They said it'll work." Anakin now had both his hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders, he was trying to turn the man to face him but Obi-Wan resisted; stiffening in Anakin's hold.

" _Obi-Wan_ , what's wrong?"

Obi-Wan shook his head in reply.

 Anakin frowned and paused, when it became clear that Obi-Wan was not going to cooperate, Anakin firmly, gently, took Obi-Wan's jaw in his hand, tilting Obi-Wan's face upwards while his other hand pushed on Obi-Wan's shoulder so that the man had to twist his torso and face him.

Obi-Wan kept his eyes shut, hands grappling at Anakin's elbows.

"Look at me."

" _No._ " Obi-Wan did not dare. In his mind he envisioned Anakin's roiling pools of blue. . . a wave of longing and pain rolled over him and he shivered minutely. Obi-Wan clenched his jaw tighter.

"Why not? I'm trying to _help_."

"It's hard to breathe _,"_ Obi-Wan relented. Anakin noted how Obi-Wan's breaths was becoming obviously laboured.

Anakin moved his hand to the side of Obi-Wan's face, his fingers curling behind the neck, a thumb hooked under the chin, keeping Obi-Wan's face tilted; the yellowish overhead light softly lit the ginger locks falling into Obi-Wan's still shut eyes.

Anakin then slid his flesh hand from Obi-Wan's shoulder down the front of the latter's tunics and slid it into the layers of cloth, to place his hand against the strenum.

Obi-Wan felt the cold and smooth synth-glove on his skin; normally he would feel the thrum of energy, the power held in that palm, that life-giving, life-taking Force it weilded­ –but not anymore. The suppressor drug barred him from the Force, from _life_. Not a whiff of Anakin's signature reached Obi-Wan's senses. They were _so close_ but Anakin might as well have been parsecs away. The emptiness within Obi-Wan seemed to plunged deeper, gaped wider...

 Obi-Wan writhed in Anakin's grip, his back arching, swallowing an almost-scream that scraped at his throat.

"Obi-Wan!" Anakin barked, his worry rapidly turning into panic. Anakin zeroed in on the bruise on Obi-Wan's exposed neck as the latter started keening in his arms. It must have been where Ventress injected the drug Anakin thought. Cradling the back of Obi-Wan's neck with his durasteel hand, Anakin pulled Obi-Wan close. He then took the glove of his right hand between his teeth, pulling it off, then place his palm over the bruise.

Anakin thought back on the healing technique Master Bant once taught him, the Mon Calamari's gentle voice echoed in his mind; _Imagine you're making channels of river on a patch of land viewed aerially, let the poison flow, from the patient into you, then out..._

Carefully, Anakin focused his energy into the injection site and he set to work; he sifted through blood rushing through veins, looking for deposits of the suppresors in Obi-Wan's body, which registered as purplish fog in his Force-sense, the equivalent of clotted blood if the Force were corporeal. Anakin painstakingly looked for all the clots; there was so many... he could not imagine how Obi-Wan was not sceaming non-stop, he knew the clots _hurt._

Anakin's durasteel hand clamped tighter on the back of Obi-Wan's head, "Kriff's sake, Obi-Wan, stay _still_." Anakin focused his force energy into pin-sharp points at each clot site, like needles ready to puncture them. Obi-Wan did not appear to hear Anakin, and kept writhing.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Anakin growled and took the plunge, striking each energy clot simultaneously.

Obi-Wan seized and cried out, thrashing wildly. The pain was sudden and excruciating, like being stabbed by sabers from the inside. It _burned_. Obi-Wan fell apart and stopped swallowing his screams.

Anakin tackled Obi-Wan bodily onto the bunk, pinning Obi-Wan down with his weight, Obi-Wan's limbs with his own. The purplish shadows of clots flowed fast into Anakin's tendrils of energy, channelling them into his own body which he then dissipate off his person like vapours.

 _It'll be over soon,_ Anakin thought desperately, his own pain going ignored, as Obi-Wan's screams filled his ears.

Slowly, Obi-Wan felt the fiery pain subside, the fog in his mind lifting, his senses sharpening, _life_ returning. He gasped for air, clutched at something vague, closing his hands about it, grounding himself in its physical solidity as he mentally stretched his reviving energy for the Force­–and found _blessed_ purchase, _finally._ Upon breaching the realm of energy surrounding him, the very fabric of life, immediately Anakin's light shone, _scorched_ him _–_ like a breath of fire that extinguished his thirst and set him alight all at once.

Their minds melded, golden bond knitting torn roots back to healing, Relief-Gratefulness- _Elation_ rang across it, seized their pulses, set their heart beats into a scattering rhythm which then joined as one.

Obi-Wan realized the thing he had been clutching at was Anakin's shoulders. Anakin's tear stained face hovered over his, Anakin's considerable weight pressing onto him, their breaths mingling in the cold. Obi-Wan brought his hands to Anakin's cheeks and wiped away the wetness he found there. Flashes of times when Anakin used to cry for his mother went through Obi-Wan's mind, all of it he laid open for Anakin to see.

"I'm no longer a _child,_ " Anakin said with an exasperated grin and sniffled.  

"I know," Obi-Wan rasped, his voice raw.

He acknowledge right then that his love for Anakin Skywalker which began all those years ago had started out prickly and reluctant, but proved to be a gift in disguise; Qui-Gon had known that by having someone to _guide_ Obi-Wan in turn would find guidance himself, and through that new bond, healing.  That masterly love, that almost paternal love, as Anakin matured, befriended him, swiftly became brotherly and when the war came, raged on; that same love had intensified into something no words in existing vernacular could name –all Obi-Wan Kenobi knew was that he truly loved Anakin.

A ferocious warmth lit Anakin's eyes, his awareness of Obi-Wan's epiphany was a joy which he savoured deeply, covetously.  Affirmations of Obi-Wan's affection for him was a thing he had thirsted for over and over again for years. It was _attachment_. Perfect Jedi, Obi-Wan Kenobi was human afterall. So, in Anakin-like fashion, he asked, "Tell me, what am I to you, Obi-Wan?"

" _Essential,"_ Obi-Wan said, still breathless and paused, then feeling similarly brazen as his former charge, he continued, "In a lifetime of war, you are half of my peace."

Anakin broke into a short laugh, amused by the declaration, beyond moved by its meaning. "What's the other half then?"

"The Jedi, the F-" before Obi-Wan could finish replying, Anakin leaned down, and without hesitation, briefly pressed a chaste kiss at the corner of Obi-Wan's mouth.

Obi-Wan accepted the gesture, smiling wryly at Anakin's deflection of his predictable answer. Ignoring the way his pulse had spiked, Obi-Wan pulled Anakin into a tight embrace. His thanks to Anakin glowed hot through their Force-bond. Anakin's acknowledgement of his thanks was a reciprocal wave of gladness that smoothed over their Force energies like a cool balm.

"Can we just pass out now?" Anakin said in a muffled voice against Obi-Wan's shoulder.

"Yes, let's."

 

 

 

* * * *

 

 

 

A sharp knocking sound jolted Obi-Wan awake. He sat up and swung his legs off the bunk, accidentally kicking Anakin who had been curled on his side, sleeping on the floor.

"What was _that_ for?" Anakin rubbed at his ribs and groaned before sitting up.

"Sorry, Anakin. I didn't see you there," Obi-Wan said sheepishly.

The door slid open to reveal Ventress, hand on her cocked hip. She stared Obi-Wan up and down, assessing him.

"Assaj," Obi-Wan dipped his head in greeting.

"I see that it worked. I don't think you two noticed but our ship almost fell out of hyperspace from all the... _healing_ going on in here _._ " Ventress punctuated the word 'healing' with a raised brow. She then appered to sniff the air before eyeing the bunk and Anakin on the floor. Seemingly satisfied about something, she turned, saying over her shoulder, "Meeting with Tano in the cockpit, boys."

"Aren't you pissed she poisoned you?" Anakin glared daggers after the slender retreating back.

"It was well intentioned I gather. It was my... altered physiology which caused the, ah..." Obi-Wan gestured in the air, looking for the right words, "...episode." Anakin snorted at Obi-Wan's choise of word.

Obi-Wan stood and extended a hand to help Anakin up.

"Well, the _episode_ did have a happy ending, won't you say?" Anakin smirked and leaned in close, his breath ghosting over the corner of Obi-Wan's mouth, where he had kissed.

Obi-Wan placed a hand on the slope of Anakin's shoulder, curling his fingers in Anakin's hair behind the neck, tugging it a little, "Don't ruin it," he said softly.

"I won't." Anakin said earnestly, uttering it like a promise, his blue eyes wide with repentance.

When the twosome entered the cockpit, Ahsoka was staring out the curved transparisteel viewport of the shuttle. The shuttle had stopped travelling, looming in front of them was a white planet, great swirls of white showstorms visible from outer space. It was not so much the look of the planet that was familar, rather its _force signature._ Illum thrummed with Force energy; both of Light and Dark. Any Force sensitive, Jedi or no would recognize Illum instantly.

"Why are we here?" Anakin questioned sharply. Ventress shrugged and looked to Ahsoka.

The togruta turned to face her companions, she was holding a holocron, its glowing blue light pulsed like a heartbeat. "This holocron is a key," Ahsoka started and displayed it carefully in mid-air above her palm, "It opens the entrance to a temple on Illum. I found it when I came here to return the kyber crystals of my old saber. And to look for new ones." Ahsoka gestured at the new lightsabers strapped on either side of her hips.

Anakin felt a pang in his chest as he looked at Ahsoka's new 'sabers. The hilts were single pieces of metal, elegantly curved, with two diamond shaped patterns engraved on its flat sides.

"The holocron bore...other properties, which it did not reveal until I partnered with Assaj to track the body thief down. I thought it was just a key... until  Assaj and I had a fight. Our combined Force energies during the fight triggered it." Ahsoka and Ventress exhchanged grave looks.

"What does it do?" Anakin asked, looking at the holocorn curiously.

"It transported us into the future... where you..." Ahsoka trailed off, her eyes were suddenly filled with pain as she looked upon Anakin.

"You _slaughtered_ people, Skywalker." Ventress hissed. "You slaughtered _many_. Separatists, Jedi, children, your own-"

Obi-Wan's breath left his lungs, his own vison suddenly came back to him. That vision that came during his sleep after the ball on Coruscant, of him on a desert planet...a different lifetime...a separate chain of events...[*](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2547338/chapters/8170154)

"Asajj, _no._ " Ahsoka stood to her full height.

"W-what?" Anakin stuttered, confusion coiled tight about him .

"Point is," Ahsoka resumed. "The vision showed us a very _Dark_ future, Anakin. Where you were no longer as you are now. The Force was clear, _you_ are the tipping point. With Yoda's council, I was to brought you and Obi-Wan here. Illum will have guidance."

Obi-Wan had moved to place a hand on the small of Anakin's back. The touch grounded Anakin, he turned a little and grabbed Obi-Wan's hand in his instead. Obi-Wan felt Anakin's fear like slithering shadows on the surface of Anakin's bright core. He held Anakin's hand tighter, sending calming energies through their bond.

"What about the body thief then?" Anakin blurted. " All that bantha poodoo about finding Quinlan? Is it all a lie? Did the council only wanted me to go to Illum? They could've just sENT _ME HERE INSTEAD."_ Anakin's voice rose steadily to a shout.

"No, Anakin," Ahsoka said gently. Even after all these years, Ahsoka thought sadly, Anakin's distrust in the Council's faith in him remained the same. She then stepped close to Anakin and took Anakin's and Obi-Wan's joined hands in both of hers. _I am your friend,_ Ahsoka projected towards Anakin, the old Master-Padawan bond between them flaring to life. Ahsoka's thought flowed into Anakin's mind, then into Obi-Wan's, connecting the three; an unbroken line of lineage.

Ventress surveyed the scene with remote jealousy. Not that she wanted to be any part of Muder-kin's posse, she thought, suddenly grateful.

"The body thief is part of this future which must be stopped. She, too, is on Illum. We will find both her and the knowledge we need to stop what Asajj and I saw."

Ahsoka was solemn, her faith in the Force was true, it showed as a clear glow about her Force presence. No deception, only truth.

"She?" Obi-Wan voiced.

Ahsoka bowed her head, staring at the durasteel floors of the shuttle. "The body thief, is Bariss Offee."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, DUN DUN DUN. It's Bariss! Hahahha. Things are finally happening again. It has been 4 months, I know. Anyways, thank you SO MUCH for sticking with me (those of you who are). Feedback as always are much appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> A spin on the Homeric Love trope.  
> Set post season 5 TCW til RoTS. Canon divergence.
> 
> Um yeah, my first Star Wars fic ever! Amateur at work. Feedback is much appreciated.


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